


Right One For You

by Immortal_Magic_Freak



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abused Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Abuse/Attempted Sexual Assault, Emotional Abuse, Eventual Fluff, Family/Pack, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Romance, Sassy Peter Hale, Self-Harm/Past Self-Harm/Attempted Self-Harm, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 66,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2419403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortal_Magic_Freak/pseuds/Immortal_Magic_Freak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*AU*: At the Supernatural Adoption Agency - SAA for short - Stiles is the only human there. However, he is more servant than resident in the only place that should have been able to look after him. But, will that all change when, one day, a man walks into the Agency looking for someone to take in? Will Stiles finally get the family and home he has been craving since he was only seven years old?</p><p>TRIGGER WARNINGS: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Self-Harm/Past Self-Harm/Attempted Self-Harm, Emotional Abuse, Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Attempted Sexual Abuse/Attempted Sexual Assault</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: Ms Scarlet Johnson, Octavian, Jasmine (Jaz).
> 
> JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD
> 
> Please, please review XD

** Prologue **

** Stiles **

I used to think to myself: ' _today is the day, I end it all_ '.

But I never did.

I never knew what it was... Maybe because I was scared. Maybe because I was too pathetic... But I could never do it.

But then, it all changed. And I realised...it was because, _somehow_ , I _knew_ it would all change that I couldn't do it. Somehow I knew that things would get better, that I would get the chance to live normally.

Well, as normally as you can when you live in a town full of supernatural creatures.

Ever since that one thing changed, everything else followed. My grades – even though they were some of the highest in all my classes already – became near perfect. I had people that cared for, in a way that I could never ask Scott or Melissa to...

I had more friends than I had ever had – luckily, the group included Scott.

I had a family again.

I had a home again.

Hell, I had a fucking _boyfriend_ now.

But none of that takes away the pain of being an orphan. Of losing both parents in the same night due to an illness for one and a man blinded by rage for the other... I had been only been seven at the time, and I could remember _everything_ that happened that night. I watched as both of my parents died. I watched, knowing there was nothing I could do... But still I blamed myself for what happened to them. If I took better care of them, if I looked out for them...then they would still be alive.

However...it did help that those people – my new friends, my new family, my boyfriend – saved me from _that place_.

Saved me from the pain.

Saved me from the nightmares.

Saved me from the cold blooded hate.

Saved me from _myself_.

Because, without them, I would have no story to tell. Without them, I wouldn't be alive. Without them...I would be nothing but worm food.

Maybe I should start from the beginning. After all, the beginning is a very good place to start.


	2. It Wouldn't Help

**Chapter 1**

** Stiles **

I didn't live in a house.

I didn't live in a flat.

I didn't live in what people would think was a normal living environment.

No. I lived in the SAA. The Supernatural Adoption Agency.

This particular place held around twenty children, aged from three to eighteen, that were all part of the supernatural world. Whether that be werewolf or vampire or whatever you could think of.

They didn't have humans and, yet, here I was.

My dad managed to get me to this place before he died, neither of us knowing that the people here didn't take to kindly to humans. But the woman who ran the place kept me anyway, using me as more of a servant than anything else.

I was to clean and file and do anything she told me. I wasn't to complain. I wasn't to talk to anyone.

She let the other kids do whatever to me. Letting them leave bruises and marks on my skin, sending me to the hospital more than once... And she even joined in at times, especially when drunk.

That was why I usually stayed at Scott's house. I could get away with it, so long as I spent one night and day at the Agency to ' _take care of my duties_ '. Melissa didn't mind me staying round and more than once she tried to persuade me to live with her...

But I couldn't place that burden on her, no matter how much I thought of her and Scott as family, and vice versa. I just couldn't be held responsible for doing that...especially when she had enough to deal with already.

But they helped me whenever they could, and that was more than I could ask for.

* * *

It was the start of the summer – Friday, June 1st 2012 – and I was sitting in a diner with Scott. It was the same diner we came to every day after school, but it soon went from after school to just every weekday, so we could still come during the holidays.

And for good reason too.

I mean, for one, the food was _awesome_! Best curly fries _ever_!

But also because there was this guy that always seemed to come in a short time after Scott and I had sat down.

Derek Hale, one of two Alpha werewolves in Beacon Hills – the other being his mother. Derek had killed a rogue Alpha werewolf after said rogue tried to kill his mother, father, sisters and uncle.

Derek still lived with his old Pack, but he know had a Pack of his own – or so I heard.

The only reason I knew was because he and Scott had told me... Not that I knew that Scott knew Derek Hale until we first saw Derek in the diner.

Now it had sort of become routine: arrive at the diner, sit down, wait for Derek, order food when Derek got there, talk for a while, and go back to Scott's – unless I had to go back to the Agency. Though the Derek part had only started in the past two weeks.

Today, _luckily_ , was a day I was spending at Scott's.

Anyway, Scott and I were sitting at our usual table in the diner, waiting for Derek to show up.

"Dude, no Harris until September!" I grinned, throwing my fists into the air as I slumped back into my seat. "Miracles do happen! Why did they even let him become a teacher?"

"Too many theories, man. Too many theories." Scott laughed, shaking his head a little.

Scott and Melissa – as well as the school – were the only ones that knew about my... _living_ conditions. I didn't want people to know and thankfully no one else did. Only the people that _needed_ to know, knew...

Not that the school knew exactly what happened behind the four walls of the Agency.

It was all too suddenly that my best friend stopped his laughter.

"Why won't you just come live with us, man?" Scott asked, his expression tightening as he spotted the newest bruise on my forearm. "You need to leave."

I sighed, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. It was something that we always fought over.

I would never tell Scott my reasoning, however. He would just tell me I was being ridiculous, that I was as more family than friend.

But I just couldn't tell him. And I couldn't say yes, either.

As I sat there, trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation, neither Scott nor I heard the door to the diner open. Which said a lot about Scott's wolfy super powers!

"Bro, you need to get out of there." Scott insisted, desperately."

"Get out of where?" a bored, gruff voice asked as I opened my mouth.

_Man, Derek has great timing._

I turned to face the Alpha wolf as he sat on the seat next to Scott, seeing the usual raised eyebrow in place on his face.

"Chemistry!" I lied, before Scott could say anything, even though I knew my friend would never tell a soul about the Agency. "It doesn't provide a...uh... It doesn't provide much of a, um, challenge."

By the look on his face, I could see that he didn't believe me.

Well, it was the truth that Chemistry didn't provide much of a challenge for me, but Derek knew it was the reasoning behind mine and Scott's talk.

But the Alpha said nothing. He just left the conversation alone.

* * *

The three of us sat in the diner for a while, talking about anything. Of course, many of the topics I came up with were quickly turned down by Derek.

Sometimes, I wondered if the guy hated me... But that thought usually disappeared when Derek would actually _defend_ me when any student from Beacon Hills High would walk by and make any comment or gesture towards me.

It was confusing getting all these mixed signals. But Derek seemed to be filled to the brim with them.

As always, Derek left just two hours after sitting down with us, saying little less that a goodbye. Scott and I only stayed around for another five minutes or so before we left to.

"Do you have to go back _there_ tomorrow? Can't you just stay with us?" Scott asked, almost pleading. "I don't like seeing my best friend hurt."

"I told you, I can't." I sighed. "Now, _please_ , let it go."

With a look, Scott shut his mouth before he could say anything more. Shaking his head like he did earlier. No matter how dumb people thought my friend was, he could be far from it.

"Come on, we can watch Batman." Scott grinned, trying to take both of our minds off of what was waiting for me tomorrow.

But no matter how hard either of us tried, I knew it wouldn't help...


	3. The Agency

**Chapter 2**

** Stiles **

I left Scott's place early the next morning – Saturday, June 2nd 2012 – sneaking out of the house, backpack on my shoulder.

It was still dark as I made my way into the town, slowly getting further and further away from the only place that had offered me a place to call home in, almost, ten years. But I had to go back.

All I had to do was get through the day and survive the night... Then I could go back to Scott's for another six days. That's all I had to remember.

But remembering that never took away the endless pain.

Nothing could. Not yet anyway...

I just had to wait another year, two months and twenty four days... Then I would be eighteen and I'd be able to leave the hell hole; I'd be able to go wherever I wanted. I could leave Beacon Hills if I wanted, travel the world.

I would, legally, be an adult in just a year, two months and twenty four days. I would get the money that my parents left me, as well as get the life insurance. Both of those things that Ms Scarlet Johnson – the woman who ran the SAA – couldn't get to. _Ever._

Much to her disgust.

I sighed, shaking my head as I moved my backpack higher on my shoulder, gripping the strap tightly.

Ms Johnson was, to put it lightly, a bitch. I seemed to be the only human she hated...and I didn't know why.

I mean, sure, I'm annoying.

And a loudmouth.

A smartass.

My ADHD makes me a liability.

I never knew when to shut up.

Everyone I knew gets hurt in some way.

I scared off anyone who even attempted to be nice to me – accept Scott and Melissa.

Shaking my head, I remembered something. That is was all my fault. That I'm not good enough. That I'm _never_ good enough.

Anything and everything was _my_ fault.

I was the cause of it all. I was the common denominator.

Nobody else, but me.

It was that moment that I stood in front of the old building, with the faded black and white sign. It looked more like an abandoned house than an adoption agency. I felt sick as I saw the Agency's catch phrase – ' _Find The Right One For You!_ ' – printed in red block letters in the window.

I remembered the first time I saw this building.

Remembered how my father's blood was prayed everywhere – on me, on the side walk, on that very same window – after a man shot him, just as my dad got me to the Agency.

Remembered how Ms Johnson made me wash my own father's blood off of the window and off of the sidewalk.

I would never be able to forget that.

And, all I could think, as I walked through the door at this moment, was: _I deserve this_.

* * *

I didn't change my clothes.

I couldn't.

What I was wearing – a holey dark blue t-shirt; uncomfortably tight jeans, with rips in the material; one pair of old, ruined sneakers – were the only things I owned. Well, that was, if you didn't count the red hoodie, that used to belong to my dad, that I kept safe in my backpack.

I didn't have enough money to buy other clothes. Ms Johnson surely didn't 's _ee the point_ ' of getting the ' _pathetic, worthless human_ ' something like clothes. She thought I should just live in rags, like the ' _poor excuse for a servant_ ' I was.

I was lucky that she was still asleep by the time I snuck into the Agency – it was, around, four in the morning. Otherwise, I would have been screwed. So, sighing a little in relief, I started to go about my daily chores – after hiding my backpack in the basement, which doubled as my room.

By the time nine o'clock came around, I had: made the breakfast, done the laundry and cleaned the floors on all three levels of the building. I always worked hard to get my chores done...it was always better if I got most of them done.

I just had two more things to do now, before lunch: tidy up and get out of sight.

Then I could hide out until lunch.

I was halfway through tidying up, when I heard echoing footsteps making their way towards me.

Nothing could have prepared my for the painful hit to the back of my head, making me stumble and fall on all fours on the ground as I lost my footing.

"Oh, get up ya lazy, little shit." Ms Johnson – an Omega were-tiger – rasped, as she flicked her still-lit cigarette at me. "Or I'll do more than clip ya round the head."

"Yes, ma'am." I whispered, keeping my head down as I stood back up.

This was how every day started.

Sometimes, it started worse than this...so, today, I was lucky.

* * *

" _Weasel."_

" _Loser."_

" _Pathetic."_

" _Murderer."_

" _If I were you, I'd have killed myself already."_

" _Freak."_

" _Worthless."_

" _Unwanted."_

" _Screw up."_

" _Mistake."_

" _Human."_

These were just a few of the things I heard on a daily basis, whether they be from Ms Johnson or the other kids...

Sure, the last one – _human_ – didn't sound so bad, but when they said it in the same way a homophobe would say ' _gay_ ' – which happened to me on often as well since, hello, I am gay – and the same way Draco Malfoy would say ' _mudblood_ '...well, I knew to take it as an insult.

It stung, but the pain of hearing the insults were part of my life. Had been for nine years, nine months and eight days. You got used to it.

But the hurt never went away.

"Boy!" I heard Ms Johnson screech as she stormed down the hall towards me, gripping something black in her right hand. "I don't need ya eyes to get even worse, ya little fuck up! If I see that ya aren't wearing them again ya _will_ be sorry. _Do I make myself clear_?!"

"Y-Yes, m-ma'am." I stammered, as she pressed the black object – harshly – into my chest.

"Good. Now, _back to work,_ ya _pathetic_ bastard!"

I could smell the mix of whiskey and gin on her breath, the strong smells together making me sick to my stomach.

But the knowledge that she had, more than likely, had _a lot_ to drink clued me in on what was coming next.

He hand collided with the right side of my head, making the left hit the wall hard. I blinked as fast as I could, trying to get rid of the tears of pain that had started to pool in my eyes, but also to try get rid of the black spots that clouded my already blurry vision.

" _Put_. _Them_. _On_." she spat, shoving me out the way as she walked past.

So I did.

I slid on my black and thick framed glasses, slowly. They basically looked like the ones people wore as fashion accessories. Only these ones had a job. Sure, they were a bit beat up...but it was better than nothing.

Especially since I didn't have the money to get any contact lenses. Ms Johnson certainly wouldn't buy them for me, and I couldn't let Melissa or Scott.

I always tried to put off wearing them. It was enough the people at school picked on me because of the way I looked and everything; they didn't need to take the mick out of my glasses.

Besides, I got enough of that _here_.

"Watch it, Four Eyes!" one of the seventeen year olds – a guy – growled, after he bumped into me. "Don't make me mark that _pretty_ face."

A few of them did that. Taunt me and tease me, I mean. A few years ago, when I was thirteen, a couple of the older boys did actually try to force themselves on me... I managed to get away and get out. By the time I had to go back to the Agency, they had been adopted and I hadn't seen them since.

But that didn't stop any of the others from trying.

Yes, I know, they most of them – pretty much all of them – hated people like me, hated humans... But that, _apparently_ , didn't mean they couldn't, and I quote, ' _get some release, even if the pathetic human is unwilling._ '

I had heard someone say that to their friend as they walked past me... Luckily, they said it on a night I was able to sneak away to Scott's house.

"Sorry." I whispered.

I just wanted this hell to _end_.

But if I wanted that, I would have to do it myself.

_Wouldn't I?_


	4. Beating

**Chapter 3**

** Stiles **

As always, I went about my work thinking the same thing over and over: _I wish I had stayed at Scott's._

I always thought that, every day I was in this place.

But I couldn't... Not if I wanted to stay alive. I mean, the kids in the Agency go to Beacon Hills High, like I do... Well, those who were old enough, anyway. And others knew the places in town Scott and I went to.

And while, yes, ending this all would just be so much _better_...I would rather do it on my terms, not theirs.

I tried as hard as I could to stay out of everyone's way, hoping to make the twenty four hours I had to endure bearable. It was wishful thinking, but it could happen...

_Pfft, yeah, when I see an elephant fly, maybe._

Shaking my head, I just went back to scrubbing the kitchen floor with a sponge. I was almost done and, as soon as I was done, I could go find somewhere to hide until it was time to do the dinner. Just the last little bit and it would be finished.

I steadied myself on my hands and knees, just to get the last tile, scrubbing at it fiercely. All I wanted to do was just hide until I could leave. Once I was back at Scott's, everything would be fine...

"Well, well, well... Who do we have here?" a voice from behind me chuckled.

Slowly, I sat up until my hands were off the floor. Keeping my head down, I slowly stood up, moving further away from the voice.

Octavian was the only eighteen – almost nineteen – year old in the place. He had been there since he was fourteen, almost fifteen – I had been almost thirteen at the time. Octavian was a pixy – with the ears and everything! It would have been cool...if he wasn't a creepy weirdo who bad touched me whenever he had the chance, even since he first arrived!

I couldn't out run him – he could fly, for God sake! I wasn't strong. The only thing I had was my brain. I mean, sure, I was smart... I was top of my class in pretty much every subject, but my grades weren't perfectly perfect.

Plus, ADHD doesn't help. The Adderall is a huge relief – it's the only thing I allow Melissa to buy for me – but I have to hide it whenever I come back to the Agency, otherwise Ms Johnson takes it away.

"Where'd you think you're going, Kitten?" he growled, grabbing the back of my shirt and yanking me towards him. "I never said you could leave."

Octavian's grip went from the back of my shirt to my hips, the sharp points of his nails digging into my skin, while his dick was – practically – trying to fuck me through our clothes.

As much as I wanted to struggle, to try and get away, I knew that would only cause more damage. It would only hurt more. I would only get more bruises and scars. _He_ would only enjoy it more.

"I never said you could stand up, either." Octavian hissed, pushing me into the counter.

My hips collided painfully with the wood and marble, stopping me from going anywhere. Yet he continued to force me down, until I was bent at a ninety degree angle, with him standing behind me.

I continued to say nothing, knowing that begging him to stop would just make him push harder – _literally_. I had learnt to stay quiet in this kind of situation; otherwise it's a whole lot worse.

" _BOY!"_ Ms Johnson's shriek made both Octavian and me freeze.

Octavian scowled, snarling at me slightly, before grabbing me by the scruff of the neck and dragging me to the old hag's office, which happened to be only down the hall from the kitchen.

The eighteen year old always seemed to try touch me more while one the way to the bitch's office, sometimes even attempting to _inside_ her office. He never got far, _thank God_!

Ms Johnson's office was a small room. A desk, three chairs, a filing cabinet, computer... That was it. Nothing colourful, no memories... Just black, white and grey.

She was leaning against her desk, glass of gin in her hand, when Octavian dragged me in. Already I knew what was going to happen here, no doubt about it.

My thoughts were only confirmed when she forced Octavian to leave, locking the door after he had left with a ' _catch you later, Kitten_ ' thrown over his shoulder.

I was more than expecting the blow to the head.

* * *

Later that night, I was asleep in the basement – aka, my room.

There was a broken mattress, a blanket filled with holes and a moth eaten pillow, and that was just to sleep on. The rest of the basement was filled with junk they didn't want or need, most of it completely damaged beyond compare, some of it burnt.

I smell was foul, but I had gotten used to it over the years, the stench no longer making me vomit.

I made it work. Just for one night a week, until I could leave.

I thought, tonight, I would get through just one night where nothing – no _one_ – came after me, just left me alone.

Wrong.

Before I knew it, I was woken up by duck-tape being forced over my mouth, while simultaneously being dragged up off of the ground.

I was surrounded by five people, none of whom I could see in the dark to identify. But I just _knew_ that one of them was Octavian.

One of the five drew back his fist, catapulting it forward with strength only someone of the supernatural could have. The punch landed on my stomach, the force of it making me hunch over and grab it.

Even though they could kill me with their strength, they always held back. Held back just enough so I stayed conscious.

The next punch connected with the side of my face, while someone kicked me in the chest. Another clawed at any part of me they could reach, while the others continued to punch and kick and claw.

" _Fag."_

" _Pansy."_

Punch.

" _Poof."_

" _Fairy."_

Kick.

" _Queen."_

" _Nancy."_

Claw.

" _Shirt lifter."_

" _Back door bandit."_

I was chucked forward.

" _Four eyed ass grabber."_

" _Frigid little shit!"_

With a swift kick to the back of my knee, I was down on my knees.

One of them was behind me, a bruising grip on my shoulder to keep me in place, forcing my knees into the cold, hard, wet ground of the basement, and their other hand locked around both of my wrists.

That's when Octavian stepped forward into the tiniest bit of light in the place. The guy crouched down until he was level with my eyes, his cold icy brown ones staring at me.

"If you'd _just_ let me fuck you, this would all be _so much easier_ , Kitten." Octavian muttered, his hand reaching out to stroke down my cheek, through the wetness that had gathered there from the blood and tears.

I flinched back from the touch, immediately, shaking my head aggressively. Octavian just sighed, put his head down, stood up and moved away, before giving his goons the go ahead to carry on.

My screams were muffled by the duck-tape over my mouth, blood and tears and sweat mixing together, painfully making the new cuts sting.

I tried to get away, tried to get them to stop.

But they were too strong for me.

Always too strong.

Three of them held me down – one on my arms, one for each of my legs – while the forth straddled me, continuing to let their fist connect with any part of my body that they could get to, all while Octavian stood not too far away, watching with a kind of sick glee.

I just wanted to die.

* * *

Sunday morning, Scott was already waiting by the front door for me.

I had seen how I looked that morning, catching a brief glimpse in the hallway mirror. I looked like something out of a horror movie, dried blood all over my face. Luckily, I got that off before I managed to slip out of the front door, practically sprinting to my salvation, far away from that horrible place.

First thing I did as soon as I was close enough?

Drag my bestest buddy of all time into the biggest hug I could manage at that moment in time.

"Come on, man, let's get you inside." Scott whispered. "You're safe now, buddy."

Nodding a little, and sniffling slightly, I shuffled into the house after Scott, hanging my backpack of few possessions up on the hook and kicking off the old, ruined sneakers.

I kept my head down, not wanting Scott to see what had happened. He would only freak out, which would lead to yelling, and us yelling usually led to me crying...

I didn't want to cry.

"Hey, you up for meeting Derek and the diner later, or do you wanna sleep?" Scott asked, heading to the fridge to pull out a carton of apple juice. "Completely up to you, dude."

"W-We can meet him." I stuttered, quietly, keeping my eyes on my lap, even as I sat down at the kitchen table in Scott's house. "You're mom already at work?"

Scott slid a glass of apple juice in front of me, as well as the orange tube containing my Adderall. I took out 10mg, downing them as quickly as possible, washing them away with the juice.

"Nah, she doesn't start for another two hours. She just got up." Scott said, his voice taking on a weird edge to it. "Stiles, are you alright?"

I just nodded, instead of giving him a verbal answer.

* * *

Melissa had bought me time to think up topics that could distract Scott if need be. And as soon as she was gone, Scott jumped right to it.

"Dude, why are you staring at the ground?" Scott demanded.

"Hey, who'd win in a fight: _Batman_ or _Superman_?" I tried.

"Stiles, tell me."

"Do you think that..."

"Stiles! Stop trying to distract me and look up already!"

So I did.

If he really wanted to see, if he really wanted an argument, then so be it.

A busted lip, black eyes, cuts, bruises...the works.

I looked like a canvas covered in disgusting white, reds, browns, purples, greens, yellows and blues, all of the colours just thrown together, mixing into a puke inducing sight.

That was what I was.

"I knew it." Scott whined. "I _knew_ I should have stopped you from leaving! You can't keep going on like this, Sti!"

"Just drop it, Scott." I mumbled. "I'll be fine, I always am."

"But that's just it! You're _not_ fine! You're so far passed the line of fine, that you can't _see_ it anymore! Damn it, Stiles, this isn't you!"

"Well it is now! I have just over a year left and I can leave that place forever! I'm only there once every week, Scott!"

I could see the frustration building up in my best friend, concern battling against it. Since we had known each other for so long, it was easy to tell what Scott was feeling, and only his mom and I knew how best to calm him down.

But right now, I couldn't do that... I could feel my own panic and frustration building... And Melissa wasn't here to help either of us calm down.

"It's _killing_ you, man! I can _see it killing you_!" Scott yelled. "You're a shell! You need to get out of there, Sti! Report them, it's abuse!"

"My dad was the Sheriff, Scott, I know it's _fucking_ abuse!" I exploded. "Just, _please_ , stop going on!"

"Not until you agree to leave that place, and live here!"

"I _CAN'T FUCKING_ LEAVE, ALRIGHT?! Just leave it at that..."

Scott stopped.

At any other time, I would have made a joke about his ' _wolfy senses tingling_ '...but not right now.

There was a time and a place, and now wasn't it – ok, wow, Scott was right...I was _not_ myself...

"They know some of the places we go; they know they can corner me in school when we go back..." I whispered. "If I run, you could be hurt, your mom could be hurt, and I _know_ they'd probably try to kill me. If I tell, they'll make my life more of a hell than it is now... I can deal with it, I promise. You and your mom make it easier."

Scott said nothing more, pulling me towards him – much like I did when I first turned up at the house – bro-hugging me tightly.

"You'll always have a place here." Scott told me.

_And here comes the waterworks..._

* * *

Derek turned up at the diner two minutes after Scott and I had sat down. The Alpha, as always, slid into our booth next to Scott, glare in place.

But it faltered slightly as he saw the state I was in.

If possible, he tensed more, jaw set hard as he took in everything that had suddenly appeared since he had seen me Friday afternoon.

"What happened." he demanded, somehow taking the question mark out of the two word sentence.

"Well, you'll be surprised to know that not everyone thinks I'm the amazing guy I am." I quipped. "I think it's because their jealous, obviously. So, because of that, they thought beating me up was the only way."

Derek growled before raising an incredulous eyebrow. Even though he could hear the joke in my voice, the guy still didn't like me lying.

"Fine, people don't like me." I shrugged. "Some don't like the fact I don't give into everything they want, so they try to beat me into submission. Happens sometimes, it's part of life."

It was true. So what if I didn't tell the big, scary Alpha wolf what was really going on? I didn't know they guy all that well and, to be honest, I didn't want anyone other than Scott and Melissa knowing.

He nodded once, still completely rigid...

Scott sent me a sympathetic smile as he slouched back into his seat.

I just sat there, concentrating more on my drink than the two wolves in front of me as the talked about...wolfy stuff, only interjecting every other sentence...

_Don't have to go back until next Saturday. Calm down._

I couldn't wait to leave that place.


	5. Five Days of Salvation

**Chapter 4**

** Stiles **

Monday, June 4th 2012.

I woke up in the bed of the guest room of the McCall house, hips aching... The bruises from where Octavian had slammed me into the counter had started to come through properly, the pain making it a little harder to walk.

It was times like these that I was happy Scott and I stayed inside for the first couple of days that I was back at his place. It gave time for the throbbing to die down at least a little.

I managed to shuffle into Scott's room – the place we spent the duration of our time – and flop down at the end of his bed. Of course, because of how often I was at Scott's, I knew exactly when to come into hi room and when not to.

Scott was the same.

But while Scott could tell because of his wolfy senses telling him if I was up or not, for me it was almost like a sixth sense. It's almost like when I parent knows their child is up, the only different being Scott and I are best friends/surrogate brothers.

So, while Scott was doing morning stuff, I lay on my back across the bottom of his bed, staring at the ceiling.

" _Dude, whatcha wanna do today?!"_ Scott called. _"Apart from, you know, stay here!"_

"What we usually do, I guess." I said, knowing he could hear me. "Video games, movies, eat."

" _Still wanna go to the diner?! I can call Derek; tell him we can't make it until Wednesday!"_

"Nah, we can go. I'll just grit my teeth and push through the pain, as always."

I had to do that.

If I let the pain get to me, then I let _them_ win. I was letting _them_ call the shots. I was letting _them_ push me around, more than what they were already.

I had to control _something_ in my little life...

* * *

Monday and Tuesday were exactly the same.

Eat.

Play video games.

Eat.

More video games.

Eat.

Movies.

Eat.

More movies.

Eat.

Video games again.

Eat.

A few more movies.

Eat.

Sleep.

That is how Monday and Tuesday went.

Of course, we still went to the diner...

Monday, Scott and I had gotten to the diner earlier than we usually did, so Derek took a little longer to get there. Luckily, by the time he did, the pain in my hips was bearable, so he didn't call me out on it...

Tuesday?

Well, Tuesday, Scott and I walked in five minutes later than usual. The pain had gotten worse as we neared the diner, making me stop every five seconds. Scott had been fine with it, even telling me to sit down and take a break.

We both thought that we'd still be there before Derek...

We were wrong.

Scott and I had walked in, the pain in my hips absolutely _excruciating_... And Derek was already sitting at our booth.

My stomach dropped.

I swear, Derek's head snapped round as soon as Scott and I walked in, his face darkening as he smelt the pain...

"Like I said, not everyone likes me." I muttered as Scott and I sat down – that hurt more than helped.

"Obviously." Derek growled. "Your bruises have bruises."

Before I knew what was happening, Derek had walked around the booth, slid in next to me and grabbed my side.

Now, naturally, considering what I was used to, flinched away so hard that I bashed my head on the wall, panicking and my heart beating through my ribs.

That reaction surprised and shocked the Alpha wolf in front of me.

But it would, since he didn't know what went on.

"If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already." Derek sighed, irritated. "I'm taking the pain away, idiot."

This time, he placed his hand on the back of my head, taking away the pain through there.

I saw the veins in his arm turn black on the surface of his skin, his body absorbing it.

Almost instantly, I felt nothing.

"Thanks, Sourwolf." I nodded.

But Derek just grunted before moving back to his original seat.

* * *

Wednesday started off the same as Monday and Tuesday, only this time there was no pain.

Whatever Derek did to take it away _really_ worked...

But on Wednesday, even though we stayed at Scott's place, we ended up in the garden, practicing a bit of Lacrosse.

I mean, just because it was the summer, didn't mean we couldn't practice!

Besides, I kind of wanted to be more of a bench warmer. I wanted to actually be _on_ the field!

So, yeah. Scott's garden was being used as a practice place.

I wasn't terrible at Lacrosse... But I knew I wasn't the _best_ either. I mean, come on, four guys on the team had wolfy powers and the others were pure muscle!

And, well... I was a hundred and forty seven pounds of pale skin and bone.

But, still, I _wasn't_ horrible at it.

I was average.

I just needed to prove that I _could_ , you know, _play_.

So, that's how, on Wednesday, Scott found himself in our makeshift goal, all kitted out and Lacrosse stick in hand, while I was standing a short distance away, stick in hand and a row of Lacrosse balls in front of me.

"Ok, dude, try score." Scott said, smirk visible even behind the helmet.

Anytime the two of us practiced together, Scott would always get so smug.

But he would.

I mean, _I_ would if I had wolfy powers!

Besides, he knew that I knew he would use aforementioned wolfy powers to block any and all attempts I made to score. But, as I saw it, if I could get a ball past a werewolf, I could get a ball past a human goalie.

I hoped.

So, scooping one ball up into the net-pocket of my Lacrosse stick, I launched it towards my best friend, shovelling the next ball into the net-pocket and flinging that towards him too.

I repeated that for every single ball I had with me.

I put all my anger and frustration behind my throws.

Focusing on all the pain that I have been dealt.

All the humiliation.

All the suffering – even though some had it worse than I did.

All the anger towards people.

All the frustration with not being able to leave that _horrible place_!

All the confusion as to _why_ my dad was shot that night.

All the grief.

Anything that had made me anything less than happy over the years, I put behind those throws, trying to release some of the stuff that had begun to build up, trying to get more force behind the ball.

By the time I actually looked at the goal, I found Scott on his back with only three out of the fifteen balls in his net-pocket and two of them off to the side of our makeshift goal.

_What happened there?_

Speed walking over there, I chucked my Lacrosse stick to the ground, offering a hand to my oldest friend, helping him sit up.

Scott looked at me, wide eyed and confused, rubbing his forehead a little.

"Ok, I don't know where that came from, but first practice after the summer, _do that_!" Scott told me. "Damn, those balls hurt!"

"Sorry..." I muttered. "Just... Angst, you know?"

"Pent up angst."

"Maybe just a little..."

Shaking his head a little, Scott jumped back up to his feet, punching me in the arm lightly.

At least he didn't yell at me...

* * *

Thursday, we went to a coffee shop in town.

Not just any coffee shop though, but the coffee shop where _Allison_ was working, part time, this summer.

Allison had been working the early shift – about, five in the morning, up until eleven in the morning – just to earn a few bucks. She had the weekends off, but Monday to Friday, during the summer, she was working for six hours.

I thought she would have dropped by now. Fallen asleep at the counter of in the back. But Allison was a morning person – unlike Scott and me. She was fine with getting up and going to sleep early, it's what she did every morning.

Yeah, Allison liked to sleep in later, just like every other person I knew... But she couldn't do it every day.

Anyway, so Scott and I walked into Allison's work place at ten-thirty, ordering before going to sit down at one of the nearby tables. We always came in near the end of Allison's shift, that way the three of us could spend sometimes together.

Allison's dad always preferred it when I was with the pair of them when they were out, just so he knew they wouldn't get up to any funny business. I guess he had the extra baggage of the fact that Scott was a werewolf and his daughter and whole family were hunters...

I know! Crazy, right?!

_Man, I can't stay on topic!_

Scott and I spotted the brunette working behind the counter. Allison always preferred being behind there and interacting with the customers. The thing is, she was just so bubbly and bright that people couldn't help but smile and just act a little happier than they were when they came in.

Allison just did that to people.

But even if people are complete assholes to her, she doesn't let it ruin her day. She doesn't let it ruin how she acts for the rest of the day, or ever.

"So, almost a year, dude." I grinned, noting the dreamy expression on my buddy's face. "Anything big planned?"

At that, Scott went red.

It intrigued me more.

"Do I really have to tell you?" Scott asked, shifting uncomfortable.

"Yes! As your bro, you need to tell me! That way I know if I need to help." I countered.

Scott thought for a moment, reddening further.

I could tell that he was trying to find _some_ way out of it.

But I knew he wouldn't be able to.

He _never_ could.

"Fine!" he sighed, whispering, glaring at the table. "I'm going to recreate what we did on her birthday when we first got together..."

"I swear to _Lucifer_ , you two are _the most_ sickeningly sweet couple I know! You are like a giant marshmallow-puppy-hybrid- _thing_." I complained. " _Lucky_!"

"Who's lucky?" Allison asked as she came over with three take away cups.

"We are, apparently." Scott chuckled. "Or, I am... I got confused."

Both Scott and Allison knew that I was gay. Scott had known ever since I figured it out, same as Melissa. Allison had known ever since last year when she had started dating Scott, and I had gotten to know her a little better.

Allison also knew about my living with Scott for six out of seven days and that I had to go back to ' _Hell on Earth_ ' for the other, but she _didn't_ know exactly _where_ I had to go back to. She didn't really know _why_ I lived with Scott so much, either... But she never pushed. She never tried to force me to tell her, or talk about it.

Allison was just a great girl.

And if she and Scott ever broke up, I was going to lock them in a small room until they're back together, and I would make sure _neither_ of them was able to get out of.

Yeah, that's just the kind of friend I was!

"Stiles!" Allison called.

Snapping my head around, I stared at the pair of them, while they did the same to me.

"Bro, what were you thinking about?" Scott asked, slowly.

"Locking you two in a small room." I replied, immediately.

They just laughed...

"Anyway, you boys ready to leave?" Allison grinned, picking up one of the take away coffee cups.

Already, I could tell it was going to be a good day.

* * *

Friday... I wasn't in the best shape.

I had to go back to the Agency that night, and I wasn't going to be able to go back to Scott's until Tuesday evening. The only reason being that ' _important people_ ' were coming in over those days and everything _had_ to be perfect.

Which meant, if it wasn't, I would be blamed.

So, in short, I was screwed.

Scott knew this, of course. Though I only told him today...

He wasn't very happy about it.

I could only think of what they would do to me when I got there...

I would be bruised.

Marked.

Scarred.

Probably be almost – if not, definitely – raped.

I would get concussions.

Possible broken bones or sprains.

I would bleed.

I would hurt.

I would, most likely, cry.

Scream...

It was inevitable. And no one would be able to stop it.

Not ever.

It was at that moment that there was a sharp pain between my eyes.

_Great, a headache. Just what I needed._

But, as if that wasn't enough, that's when Derek walked in. With six familiar faces.

I looked to Scott, a little wide eyed, as we spotted the group of seven walking towards us. I mean, it just _had_ to be them!

Boyd, Danny, Erica, Isaac, Jackson and Lydia were all walking towards our booth with Derek leading them, all of them looking like some weird-ass biker gang.

Groaning a little, I slumped back into my seat – I was in a chair this time, instead of seating in one of the booth seats.

_Just my luck._

Seeing Jackson just made everything worse. I thought I was going to be getting _away_ from the assholes from school, so then I only had to deal with the ones at the Agency. But, no. Apparently I couldn't even have _that_!

As if life didn't suck enough!

Scott and I had known Jackson – as well as Danny and Lydia – since kindergarten. Even back then Danny was loved by everyone. Even back then, Jackson was a jerk. Lydia was the only one that had changed.

I mean, she had been really nice. She would always drag Jackson away if he started being a dick, always talking to Scott and me... But then we got to fifth grade, when Lydia decided she wanted to be ' _Queen Bee_ '.

Since then, Jackson had gotten a little worse, realising that he wouldn't be stopped now. It had gone from simple name calling, to taunting, to physically being shoved into as many hard objects as possible.

Jackson was the main reason I got bruises from school.

Boyd and Isaac were on the Lacrosse team. They didn't join until last year, and only then did I know who they were. Sure, I had seen them around, but I didn't know _who_ they were. Though, once I knew their names, I _did_ look into them a bit – like I did with everyone else. They just _always_ seemed to be around.

I looked Erica up as well, especially when she suddenly went from being a nobody to, well... _Erica_. Of course I should have realised that it was because of The Bite. She _always_ seemed to be around too, and just stayed close to Boyd – understandable, since they were dating – and Isaac.

Danny, on the other hand... Well, he was a good guy. Sure, like everyone else, he didn't like the fact I talked too much, but he wasn't cruel. Danny was the only one that had remained the same, from kindergarten up until that moment. And I didn't think he was going to be changing anytime soon.

As they came closer, all of them gave some form of greeting – a nod of their head, a grunt, a small bored smile, an unenthusiastic wave. While Scott replied with a smile of his own, I just gave a tiny wave of my own, before turning back to look out of the window in front of me.

_This was going to be fun._

* * *

Scott and Derek sat on the booth seats either side of me, keeping the other six further away from me.

No one was talking.

Everyone sat there stiffly, looking around, trying to think of something to say or do...

Of course, usually, that was me. But, given where I had to go that evening, I wasn't in the talking mood.

Isaac cleared his throat, some of them casting expectant glances over to me, waiting for me to say something to relieve the tension...

But no, not today. Not with what was going to be happening for the next four days, as well as tonight... I couldn't give them something to mock me with, if _that_ was going to be happening as soon as I walked through the doors of that _fucking_ place!

I didn't realise how long we had all been silent until someone touched my hand.

I jerked back violently, almost falling off of the chair I was on. I would have fallen off too, if it wasn't for Scott grabbing me. Looking up, I found the waiter standing next to me, looking bored and expectant and a little concerned all at the same time.

"I-I'm not hungry." I muttered, watching as the waiter shrugged and walked off.

"Stiles..." Scott started.

"I'm _not_ hungry, Scott. Leave it alone!"

Everything just went silent again on our table. The sound of chatter and laughter filled the air from the other customers, but the nine of us remained absolutely soundless.

But someone, of course, spoke up eventually.

I just didn't suspect it would be _this particular_ someone.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Stiles?" Derek demanded, tone low and menacing as always.

"Nothing is _fucking wrong_! I just don't feel like talking! People don't seem to take too kindly to when I talk, so I thought I'd save them the earache!" I snarled, standing as my watch beeped. "I need to go."

And, with that, I left.

Even though I _may_ have had a little bit of a, I guess you could call it ' _crush_ ', on Derek – _hey, I was gay and he's hot!_ – that didn't give him any right to order me to tell him anything, like I was one of his damn _pups_!

Man, it made me a little happy that Scott wasn't a part of _his_ Pack!

But, hey, I couldn't think about that now.

No.

Right now, I had to prepare myself for hell.


	6. Fuck!

**Chapter 5**

** Stiles **

I started working as soon as I walked into that building.

I dumped my backpack downstairs – behind all these crates, so no one could find it – before going about doing all my jobs.

Of course, as soon as I stated all my jobs, that was when the abuse started.

_Never a dull moment..._

First it was a hit around the head for not being finished with my work – Ms Johnson never realised I was gone.

Second was a punch in the arm for getting in the way of one of the other sixteen year olds.

Third was a dead leg for not moving fast enough.

Forth was a scratch for just existing.

Fifth was another hit for bleeding from the scratch.

It went on like this, just like it did every day.

Of course, luckily, I remembered to put my glasses on before I walked through the door of the Agency, so I at least avoided being hit for that...

_Silver lining..._

But I was going to be fine.

Eventually.

As I worked, I put all my frustration from the diner into the scrubbing and cleaning, making everything look a lot cleaner then they probably were. I mean, come on, things can't _really_ be clean in _this_ place.

It was _filthy_!

From the moment I stepped into that hell hole, I tried to avoid Octavian at all costs. But I knew that, at some point, I wouldn't be able to keep hiding.

He would find me.

He always found me.

But I couldn't think about that now. I had floors to scrub and sweep, counters to wipe down, things to dust.

_It's a hard knock life, indeed..._

* * *

It was, around, ten in the evening when I had _finally_ finished everything.

I was just minding my own business, putting the mop away, when _he_ turned up.

I had closed the door to the storage cupboard, just about to head down to the basement, when he hooked his arm around my waist, dragging me back into him.

Of course this was going to happen today, it happened every time I came back!

_I hate my life!_

"Not so fast, Kitten. We've got some unfinished business." he whispered in my ear.

I _literally_ felt like I was going to throw up.

What was his fixation with _me_?!

"I've planned out _exactly_ what I'm going to do to you tonight, Kitten. And you're gunna love _every second_ of it." he told me. "First, I'm going to gag you and get rid of that _pesky_ shirt of yours. Then, of course, I'm going to have to tie you down. Wouldn't want you getting away; such a sneaky little thing you are."

Octavian already knew I wouldn't scream. He knew I wouldn't risk attracting the attention of anyone else in the Agency, especially no Ms Johnson.

No, he knew I would stay quiet.

He knew I wouldn't make my life more difficult than it already was.

"Gunna strip you slowly, Kitten. Make you _sweat_." he continued. "Gunna see how much of me cock you can take down your throat, bet you can take all of it without gagging. Haven't decided if I'm gunna let you swallow or not. Probably not, save that for another day...I'll just shove straight in to that pretty little ass of yours, Kitten."

I, pretty much, just wanted to run and throw up. But, when you had a Pixy's claws digging into your sides, you couldn't really run anywhere.

I tried before...

Didn't work out so well for me.

I could tell that Octavian was going to say more... But he stopped as soon as footsteps started to echo down the halls, coming closer and closer to where we were.

It was then that Octavian spun me around, grinning wickedly, before shoving me against the door, the small of my back hitting into the door handle of the storage cupboard.

"For the last time, _stop_ trying to talk to me!" Octavian yelled, backing away slowly.

Ms Johnson walked around the corner as soon as he started talking, glaring... If this was a cartoon, she would have had steam coming out of her ears.

There was one rule in this place that concerned me. No one was to talk to or acknowledge me in anyway shape of form in the days leading up to, during or after potential adopters came to the Agency... If anyone did, then they would get a talking to, and I would be hit.

This time wasn't any different, only Octavian didn't get hit.

"Get to bed; ya got a long day ahead of ya, kid." Ms Johnson told him, smirking a little.

Octavian, like the ass kissing little fuck he was, just nodded and left, sending one more grin my way.

As soon as he left, the smirk on Ms Johnson's face fell, leaving a disturbing snarl on her face.

* * *

The last thing I remember was my head colliding with a wall.

Now I was being spat on and footsteps were fading away.

"Get ya ass to the basement!" she yelled, kicking my glasses back towards me. "Ya got shit to do tomorrow!"

So, sliding my glasses on, I used the walls to help me walk, practically dragging myself towards the basement door.

Each step was agonizing pain.

Each breath hurt.

Each bruise had multiple other bruises on top of it.

Many of the smaller scars had reopened and started bleeding.

_Oh, fan-fucking-tastic!_

Sighing, shaking my head, I took each step slower, especially when I got to the stairs.

The stairs leading down to the basement were narrow, steep and uneven... Even when I _hadn't_ been beaten they were a pain to walk down. And up.

But I dealt with it.

I didn't complain.

If I complained, I was hit.

So I just sucked it up.

As soon as I reached the bottom, I lay down on that broken mattress, with the blanket filled with holes and a moth eaten pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

_Now, I just have to wait for Octavian to show up._

* * *

Saturday, June 9th 2012.

The first day of the ass kissing of potential adopters.

It was going to be hell... For me anyway.

Octavian didn't show up during the night, so I was _beyond_ tired that morning...

Not a good start.

But, not only that, but Octavian and his group of _assholes_ decided that, today, that would do _anything_ and _everything_ they could to make as many messes as they could.

Spilling drinks.

Dropping food.

Accidentally marking the floor or walls.

Breaking things.

And anything they did, I got the blame for.

Not that Ms Johnson would do anything to me in front of the potential adopters. _Oh no_! She had a ' _reputation_ ' to uphold!

If only people knew how much of a bitch she was!

* * *

No one spoke to me.

No one acknowledged that I existed.

I was fine with that. Happy even!

But I knew that that would all end as soon as the last potential adopter had left the Agency.

Everything had been cleaned.

Everything had been sorted.

So I decided to go hide out in the basement.

Well, it was also following my orders, since that was what Ms Johnson told me to do... But it was more of a choice, to be honest.

So, I hid down there, thinking about when I was going to get out of that place.

Thinking about how much shit Scott would give me.

Thinking about what would happen when we went to the diner and Derek showed up.

Thinking about if Derek was going to bring his Pack with him again... I hoped he didn't.

I thought of _anything_! Anything that would take my mind off of where I was at that moment in time and what I would have to endure in just a few more hours!

Sure, it seemed like a long time. But, when you were me? An hour seemed so much shorter than it should be.

But, hey, couldn't complain, right? I mean, other people had it worse than me...

At least I had shelter.

At least I hadn't been raped.

At least I was _alive_...

Even if it was only barely.

* * *

For once, Ms Johnson didn't come down to the basement.

For once, Ms Johnson didn't beat me.

But, this time, Octavian stumbled down the stairs.

"Just because I didn't make it last night, Kitten, doesn't mean you're off the hook." he cackled. "I'm going to make good on my plans."

And I was well and truly screwed.

There was no way out of this.

I couldn't stop this.

I tried to run anyway, tried to make a break for it.

But Octavian rushed forward, forcing me back into the wall. He ripped the t-shirt I was wearing – one of Scott's old ones, not my dark blue one – chucking it aside before he forced me down onto my knees.

"Don't even _think_ about it!" he roared, claws growing. "Try it again you frigid little human bastard and I will make you _pay_!"

And it just got all the more terrifying!

I mean, sure, I had seen pretty much everyone in the Agency pissed... Put I hadn't seen Octavian like this.

He was sweating and shaking. He was pale and clammy... So, naturally, I was frightened for my life!

Keeping one hand on my shoulder, Octavian used the other to unzip his jeans as fast as he could, pushing the material of his jeans and boxers down with force that was bound to rip them.

"Open wide, Kitten." Octavian snarled.

I did a stupid thing and fought back.

I struggled and hit out, trying to dislodge him.

I only succeeded in pissing him off more and elbowing him in the nuts.

Octavian stumbled backwards, groaning and clutching his junk, backing away towards the stairs.

"You're going to pay for that tomorrow, Kitten." Octavian ground out. "You're going to be sorry."

I didn't sleep at all that night either.

* * *

Sunday, June 10th.

Day two.

I was _bricking it_!

It was nine in the morning and I hadn't seen Octavian yet.

I hadn't seen many people yet...

Then again, no potential adopters were coming in for another two hours, so people were probably still asleep.

So, that gave me, about, another hour alone before I could be killed by Octavian and co. Oh, how _fantastic_!

Adjusting my glasses, I set about scrubbing the floors by the front door again, just so I had something to do. Just so I could think about something else.

Of course, I didn't expect to be kicked from behind so I fell flat on my front.

I should have known better than to think that Octavian would wait until everyone else was awake to make his move.

Eyes wide with fear, I started to push myself up.

Octavian just grabbed the back of my dark blue t-shirt, throwing me back into the wall opposite to where I was.

"This is what's going to happen." he barked, dragging me up to my feet by my neck. "I am _going_ to fuck you, and you are _going_ to _take it_. You do _anything_ to stop me, and I _will_ hurt you."

This time, Octavian tried to get _my_ jeans of first.

He could fuck right off if he thought I was going to let him!

So, again, I fought back.

Even though I knew it was stupid and useless.

He punched me.

He slapped me.

But I kept fighting.

I wasn't going to let _him_ do this to me!

I didn't let the others, so I most certainly _won't_ let _him_!

But I was _still_ going to have to find a way to stop him.

Octavian had just adjusted his grip on my throat, able to get his other hand around the hem of my jeans... He was _just_ about to yank them down, when a loud growl stopped him.

Looking over his shoulder, my eyes went wide, with shock instead of fear now.

" _Derek_?!" I yelled.


	7. How and Why?

** Stiles **

" _Derek_?!" I yelled.

Standing by the, now shut, door was Derek _fucking_ Hale with his eyes glowing red, growling.

Octavian dropped me as soon as he caught eye of the Alpha, bowing his head and backing away.

I should have known that wouldn't be the end of it, though.

"What did I tell ya?!" Ms Johnson screamed, storming towards me, throwing me back down to the floor. "Do ya job and _don't_ talk to anyone, ya impolite little _brat_!"

I only _just_ managed to break my fall, hiding my face from Derek as I scrambled back onto my knees.

"Sorry, ma'am." I whispered, readjusting my glasses and starting to scrub the floors again.

"I said _DON'T_ talk!" she yelled again, hitting me across the back of the head, sending my glasses flying off of my face.

At least I could see enough to know where they landed.

This was the _last_ thing I wanted to happen!

I didn't want _Derek_ of all people to find out about this!

I wanted no one to know about this! Well, no one other than Scott and Melissa...

" _Alpha Hale, you're early."_ I heard Ms Johnson say, sweetly. _"Unfortunately, all the children other than Octavian are still asleep. All the excitement makes the little darlings so tired."_

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my glasses, shoving them back onto my face. I kept my head down as I made my way back over to where the bucket of water and the sponge lay on the floor, which, unfortunately, just so happened to be _right next_ to Ms Johnson.

Oh, the joy of that.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat and trying to ignore the pain in my head, I started to walk past Octavian and _towards_ Ms Johnson.

I could feel Octavian watching me from where he stood, not daring to make a move, no matter how much he wanted to.

I guess it paid well to have an Alpha on your side.

I could see Ms Johnson clenching her fist. I knew before she even started doing that that she was going to hit me again.

She always did.

I just had to keep my head down and endure it.

But the next thing I knew, as soon as I got half way between Octavian and Ms Johnson, I was pulled to the side.

Pulled towards the door.

Pulled _towards Derek_ , as he growled again.

"Are you ok?" he asked, words sounding strange as his fangs started to grow.

I just nodded, wincing slightly as the pain in the back of my head.

Snarling quietly, Derek placed his hand, gently, on the back of my head, leeching the pain away, just like he did in the diner a few days prior.

I stood as still as I could as the pain leaked out of me, wrapping my own arms around my torso as I stood there.

"Is this how you get the other bruises?" Derek mumbled, so quietly that the other two couldn't even hear them.

I nodded again, keeping my eyes to the floor.

Of course, that then meant I saw Derek clench his other hand into a fist, puncturing his palm with his claws.

I winced out of principal...

"I'll take Stiles." Derek said, dropping his hand to my shoulder.

"But, Alpha Hale, you're here to find a _child_ to re-home, not a..." Ms Johnson started.

"I know! And that's _exactly_ what I'm doing! Now, I'm taking Stiles. _No_ arguments."

I felt like the silence stretched on for hours, no one saying anything, the air tense.

You wouldn't be able to see it, but because I was so close I could feel Derek shaking, trying to restrain himself from _exploding_.

I was _sincerely_ hoping that we _didn't_ get to that...

"Fine, you can have the little shit." Ms Johnson agreed. "He has no papers, so just take him."

* * *

Derek had gone down to the basement with me, so I could get my backpack. He made sure I walked in front of him the whole time, and that he didn't leave too large a gap between us.

Even though it still scared me a little, I was grateful.

Derek had told me to get in his car – coincidentally the one that was _directly_ outside of the Agency – and sit in the passenger seat while he spoke to Ms Johnson.

From where I was sat, it looked more like threatening than speaking to.

Derek said nothing when he walked out of the Agency.

Derek said nothing when he got into his Camaro.

Derek said nothing as he started his car.

Derek said nothing as he started to drive.

And I was _so not_ going to break this silence!

As always, I kept my head down, choosing to stare at my backpack, which I had sitting in-between my feet as I fiddled with the handle.

_I was out of there... I was out of that hell hole..._

The question was, though: for how long?

* * *

I looked around as we pulled up into the – I guess you could call it – drive, mainly focusing on the house that was surrounded by the hundreds of acres of woods. The house itself was large. It looked three stories high, but I it was probably more than that – underground space, duh.

Looking it from the front, it would look like any normal house, not too special and not to large... From the side? Well, it stretched quite far back, and don't even get me started on how far it must have went down for the basement!

The walls were made up of wooden planks – they must have been covering the bricks –, each corner of the house made of bricks, the same as part of the middle of the walls on the side of the house on both sides.

Each floor of the house was separated by a concrete ledge, the largest concrete ledge being the first one over the door, being held up by four pillars on the porch.

Windows were equally spaced around the house, letting in enough light to brighten up the interior, but not so much that it was _drowned_ in light.

The roof...the roof was flat, the edge before the concrete ledge surrounded by a metal fence of sorts. A small bump could be seen on top, probably a door that you walked through to get onto the roof. It must be nice to go up onto that roof, to lie down and look up at the stars. The view must have been great too, standing by the fence and look out on everything.

All in all, I was impressed.

"You live here." I couldn't help but say.

A grunt was the only reply I got as Derek left the car...

I scrambled to follow, tripping over my feet twice to catch up after I closed to door to his Camaro.

I could tell by the tension in his shoulders that he was fuming...

I stayed quiet, hoping that that would help him to calm down before he actually spoke... But I doubted that would work.

As soon as the door to the house closed behind me, I found Derek already pacing in the hall way, in front of me.

"Why didn't you tell me, Stiles." he demanded, voice cold. "I COULD'VE HELPED YOU _AGES_ AGO!"

I could help but flinch back at the sudden roar, flattening myself against the door and sliding down to the floor, covering my ears with my hands and clenching my eyes shut.

I had already dropped my backpack beside me; I could feel the material against my leg.

_He was going to be exactly like Ms Johnson, wasn't he?_

Immediately, I felt someone in front of me.

"Sorry." Derek whispered now. "I shouldn't have yelled. Why didn't you tell me?"

"If I left, they would have thought I was with Scott. They know some of the places we go; they know they can corner me in school when I go back..." I whispered, opening my eyes. "If I ran, Scott could have gotten hurt, his mom could have gotten hurt, and I _know_ they'd probably have tried to kill me. If I told anyone, they'd have made my life more of a hell than they had already... I thought I could deal with it. I didn't want anybody else to get hurt because of me."

Derek frowned, but said nothing. Instead, he held out a hand a helped me up once I took it.

"Come on, you'll sleep and eat for now. I'll give you a tour tomorrow." Derek told me; placing his right hand on my right shoulder once I was standing, leading me towards the stairs. "My family are away until tomorrow evening, so it's just the two of us and the staff in the house until then."

"Staff?" I asked, quietly.

Derek nodded, giving the barest his of a smile.

"People that had worked for my family for generations. They don't want any other job, no matter how much we tell them we'll help them get it." Derek explained. "They're like family, really."

Well, at least they weren't treated like I had been...

* * *

Derek took me to the top floor of the house, taking me right to the end of the hallway.

The door to my left had a simple red, wooden ' _D_ ' on it, while the one to my right had nothing. The door to my left was the only one with a letter on it, the others bear... I guess Derek as the only one that slept on this floor of the house...

As I stood in the middle of the hall, Derek walked over to the door to my right, opening it a little and stuck his head through.

All I heard was a muffled conversation before it closed again.

"They're still sorting your room out." Derek explained. "I wasn't actually supposed to come home for another three hours, but... You know what, never mind, come in here."

Derek walked over to the door with the red ' _D_ ', opening and walking through it, holding the door open for me.

Hesitantly, I followed, pushing my glasses back up the bridge of my nose as they started falling.

All the walls but on were white, the wall to the right of the door having been painted black. There were four book cases filled from top to bottom with books, few pictures on shelves, a walk in closet, a balcony and a _massive_ bed. There were two other doors in the room, one was a bathroom – the door was open, that was how I knew – and the other was closed...

"It's a study." Derek explained, gesturing to the door that was shut. "Computer, books for research, etcetera."

I nodded, continuing to look around the room, but staying rooted to the spot.

I was so fixated on looking around the room that I didn't notice that Derek had moved until something was being shoved into my hands.

"I expect you don't have anything else with you and these are the smallest things I own." Derek told me. "Change in the bathroom and leave what you're wearing on top of the hamper. We'll get you new clothes tomorrow."

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, I nodded before taking the sweatpants and t-shirt from Derek and headed to the bathroom to change.

_Why was he being so nice to me?_

* * *

As soon as I came back out of the bathroom, Derek told me that, until ' _the staff_ ' were done with sorting out my room, that I was going to sleep in _his_ bed and that he would take me to _my room_ when it was ready.

I apologised there and then for anything I might do when he woke me up, because _Lord knows_ what would happen then...

"I'll be in the study." Derek said. "Do you want me to keep the door open?"

Biting my lip, I thought for a second before I nodded.

Even though I really didn't want him to know if I had any nightmares, I also didn't want to hear the door open later and freak out...

Besides, I trusted Derek more than I did some others.

"Alright. Try and get some sleep." he said, right before walking into the room to the far left of his bed.

I watched as Derek walked away, only pushing the door slightly so it was at an angle. This Derek, compared to the one I saw at the Agency and in the ground floor of the house, was one I never thought I would see.

Not to mention with how he acted whenever he joined Scott and me at the diner.

Frowning slightly, I hesitantly made my way over to his bed, lying on top of the covers.

* * *

The next thing I knew, someone was touching me.

The first thing to fly through my head was that Octavian was going to make good on his promise.

So, naturally, I tried to get away, hitting and kicking and punching, doing just about anything I could think of. Trying to get away, trying to keep myself _relatively_ safe.

It was the most primal instinct a person had: _fight or flight_.

Usually, it would be flight, unless I was verbally talking someone down and they were, in no way, a supernatural creature. But, sometimes, you just _had_ to fight back.

But then I was being held down.

By someone heavy.

And they were... _talking_?

" _Stiles,_ calm down _."_ Derek's voice murmured, quietly, pining me down to the mattress. _"You're going to hurt yourself."_

Freezing as I was, keeping the tension in my body, I opened my eyes slowly, seeing the Alpha wolf hovering over me. Well, when I say over, I mean his head was over me, he was actually to the side of me.

"Sorry, sir." I whispered, avoiding eye contact.

"Did you just call me ' _sir_ '?" Derek scoffed. "Stiles, you call me _Derek_ , nothing else. Got it?"

"Yes, si... I mean, Derek."

Sighing, Derek let go of me, sliding off of the side of his bedand stood to the side.

Sitting up, I felt something fall into my lap. Looking down, I found a thick blanket covering my lower half, pooling in my lap. Frowning, I just stared at it... I mean, it wasn't there when I first lay down, yet, somehow, here it was.

"You were shivering." Derek spoke. "It was the thickest one I could find.

Glancing up at the Alpha wolf, I caught him watching me, as if I was something new he was trying to figure out.

It was a look that I hated people aiming at me.

It was a look that I had received more times than I cared to admit.

"Thanks." I muttered. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Four hours; its two o'clock." Derek told me. "You would have been asleep longer, but Jaz just told me they were done with your room.

"Who's Jaz?"

"Jasmine. She's a part of the cleaning part of the staff."

Nodding, I got off of Derek's bed, making sure that the borrowed t-shirt and sweat pants didn't fall down as I moved, folding the blanket as soon as I was standing.

Looking around, I tried to find the cupboard or draw that it most likely belonged in... But I had the feeling that it didn't belong in Derek's room...

So, looking over at Derek, I waited for him to give me _some_ idea as to where the blanket went.

"Just leave it there; it'll be taken care of later." Derek said, walking over to the door.

"Won't I get in trouble?" I asked, frowning, staying rooted to the spot.

Stopping half way between his bed and the door, Derek turned around, a bemused expression colouring his face.

"Why would you get in trouble?" he chuckled, slightly.

"I would always get in trouble if I didn't put something back where it belonged." I replied, looking down at the carpet. "Ms Johnson would always get mad. But I learnt my lesson after the first time."

Derek stopped chuckling.

Everything went eerily quiet.

I could feel Derek watching me.

"What happened the first time?" he asked wearily.

"Health inspector came in. They said I fell down the stairs, so they took me to the hospital." I said.

"How old where you?"

"Eight."

Without saying another word, Derek left the room, turning to the right and walking down the hallway, leaving me where I was standing.

Great, only four hours with this guy and I've fucked it up already.

I wouldn't be surprised if he took me back.


	8. New Rules

**Chapter 7**

**Stiles **

I met Jasmine (Jaz) Santiago – a nice Latina lady – after Derek left.

She saw Derek storm off down the hall before seeing me just standing there, still holding the blanket. Instantly, the woman – around the age of forty – came over to me with a friendly smile and a thick Spanish accent.

The first thing Jaz did, after greeting me and welcoming me to the house, was take the blanket from me, saying she would put that away.

That was something I wasn't used to.

I had gotten used to doing everything myself, knowing where everything went... It got so bad that I was even like that at Scott's house whenever I was round there...

The next thing she did was walk me the few steps from Derek's room to, what was now, my own.

" _I have a bed?!"_ was the first thing out of my mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of the _thirty five_ inch mattress on top of the metal stand.

There was even a wooden headboard that seemed to be covered with this really soft material...

To some, it would just be a bed.

To me? It was _heaven_!

Then again, most things would be after sleeping on broken mattress with a blanket filled with holes and a moth eaten pillow.

 _Oh_ , and that was another thing! Duvet – a dark purple – and the pillows – a dark blue – were both thick and new and just so _squishy_ looking. I mean, honestly, it looked as if you would sink right in to it!

"I'll leave you to settle and sleep." Jaz said, gently, before closing the door the room, leaving me alone in it.

The walls were white, and the only furniture seemed to be a desk and chair, a wardrobe, a few shelves, a few cabinets and a couple of draws. Even _this_ seemed too much for _me_. I mean, I had barely anything, let alone enough to put in all these places.

Setting my backpack – I had grabbed it as I left Derek's room – on the floor next to the desk, I looked around again before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

This was going to take a lot of getting used to – if Derek let me stay, that is.

* * *

At some point I must have fallen asleep again because, the next thing I knew, there was knock on the door to the room I was in.

I had only _just_ sat up when the door opened and Derek popped his head around the door.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked, sounding a little guilty.

I shook my head, keeping it turned down.

"I want to apologise, sir." I told him, quietly, crossing my legs on the bed. "I didn't mean to upset you earlier. I understand if you're taking me back there."

"Stop calling me ' _sir_ '." Derek told me, sighing as he walked in and closed the door behind him. "And I'm _not_ taking you back."

Even though that surprised me, I didn't let it show. I didn't look up.

I just nodded slightly.

"You have nothing to be sorry about either." Derek added. "I was just... _surprised_ and had to go cool down."

Again, I just nodded.

"Why do you always nod, why don't you speak?" Derek asked, a little frustrated.

"I'm only allowed to take when apologising or when I'm answering a question." I told him. "Ms Johnson made sure I knew that."

I watched as Derek's hands clenched into fists, curling into myself as he did so...

Even though the Alpha wolf was standing on the other side of the room to me, I wasn't deluded to believing that he couldn't get over to me faster than I could blink. I mean, despite what people thought, I _wasn't_ an idiot.

It was the way I was wired – and sometimes my ADHD – that made people think that.

"Come on," he said instead, forcing his hands to relax. "We'll have a late lunch."

* * *

Down in the kitchen there was one guy and one woman cooking and preparing food... Derek told me it was Jasmine's husband and a friend of theirs – Miguel Santiago and Sasha Blake.

I couldn't get over the uneasiness that came with letting other people take care of the everyday tasks that I usually tended to. I didn't know what to do and I just felt like, at some point, someone was going to turn around and treat me just like Ms Johnson did whenever I stopped doing my duties.

Derek got me to sit at the table before he went to speak to the two at the counters and oven, telling me to just sit and relax.

Huh, _relax_. That was something I hadn't been able to do in a _long_ time. Not properly, anyway.

Not even at Scott's...

Sitting in the chair at the table, I tried to make myself as small as possible: shoulders hunched, back bowed, knees and feet together, hands in my lap. When I was younger, when Ms Johnson _had_ to feed me, this was how I had to sit.

This was how I had to hold myself anytime I sat down. Though that was _always_ a rarity.

A hand on my shoulder jarred me out of my head, making me flinch back violently, which almost tipped the chair I was in all the way back. I would have fallen and hit my head if it wasn't for the hand on my shoulder pulling me back down.

It turned out the Derek had sat at the head of the table – the chair to my right – watching me a little... _concerned_?

"Pretty sure that's not relaxing." Derek said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry, si... I mean, Derek." I replied, quietly.

"Don't apologise. Just relax while we wait to eat."

"How much?"

That made the Alpha wolf stop.

He looked as if I had grown another head and, maybe, I might have done just that if I wasn't being serious.

"Can you repeat that?" Derek asked, slowly.

"How much am I allowed to eat?" I asked, nervously, pushing my glasses back up my nose. "You haven't told me yet. Neither at what times I'm allowed to eat, nor what I can and can't wear. Ms Johnson always had rules about that... As well as other things."

Glancing up, I could see red starting to seep into Derek's eyes.

I was used to it being blue, not red... And the red just made the panic worse.

The red meant something much more dangerous.

The red meant anger and pain and blood and _power_.

I could feel my heart rate increasing.

I could feel my throat closing.

All I did was blink and, all of a sudden, the red was gone from his eyes, leaving behind the faded forest green they usually were.

"Let's get one thing straight." Derek told me, voice low. "You don't need to ask _anything_ like that. You don't need to wait for permission. You eat, wear, do, go... _whatever_ whenever you like. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I mumbled.

Just as I answered Miguel and Sasha walked over to the table, both with a plate and a drink in their hands.

The uncomfortable feeling came back tenfold as they both placed the plates and drinks in front of Derek and I, but I tried not to let that show when I thanked them.

I couldn't help but glance at Derek, waiting for some kind of indication that it was actually alright for me to eat this... I guess he noticed that I needed that, so did nothing but nod.

"Why do you answer everything so honestly?" Derek asked after a few moments of silence.

"I was told to not hide anything from my master or mistress when they asked me a direct question, otherwise they would get angry." I said, staring at the table. "I don't want anyone to get angry."

* * *

After the late lunch, Derek took me into the living room area.

And, I swear, the living room in Derek's house was the size of the _whole_ of the ground floor of the Agency.

Couches, recliners, _giant_ flat screen TV... A massive pile of blankets and pillows in a corner... A fire place. Family pictures.

It had everything you would expect it to have and more... Overall, it was just very _homey_.

I couldn't really remember much about my home – too many blows to the head and lack of Adderall – but I always loved to imagine what it would be like...

_Man, who am I, Annie?!_

"Whoa." I whispered.

"Yeah." Derek said. "I always thought it was a bit too much."

"It's _awesome_! I mean, it's very nice..."

Sighing, Derek fell back into one of the recliners, muttering something quietly to himself. If it was Scott, I would have bugged him until he told me what he said... But because it was Derek and because he was now, technically, the person who owned me, I just kept quiet.

I mean, Ms Johnson was always saying I was a thing to be owned, not cared about.

After another glance around the room, I walked over the wall furthest away from Derek and sat down on the floor, leaning back against it. It was rare that I ever got to sit on a chair in the Agency, so it had to be the same here.

Right?

Then again, it was even rarer that I got to sit in the same room as someone else...

"Stiles, you know you can sit on a couch or one of the recliners." Derek said, slowly.

"I-I can?" I questioned, softly, glancing towards him.

"Yeah. Besides, they're comfier than the floor."

It was going to be hard trying to get used to these new rules...


	9. Shopping Trip

**Chapter 8**

**Stiles**

The next morning – Monday, June 11th – I woke up to the sound of birds chirping.

The sun was just beginning to rise over Beacon Hills, casting shadows deep into the forest surrounding the house I was in.

I looked out of the wide window in the room I had been out in, looking out into the forest. It was kind of beautiful... Never had I really got to appreciate the view of, well, _anything_ before, always to busy with getting to one place or another.

And right now wasn't any different.

Teeth had been brushed, hair as well, glasses were on, Adderall swallowed. Since I didn't have anything to wear, I just stayed in what Derek had given me to wear the day before...hopefully he wouldn't mind.

Sighing a little, I made my way – quietly – out of the room, closing the door behind me. I didn't know if the house was soundproof or not, so it was better to stay quiet... Not that that would help me, considering, you know, werewolves had sensitive hearing like dogs.

Anyhow, as silently as I could, I crept downstairs. All the bruises I had gotten yesterday from Octavian and Ms Johnson the day before weren't giving me any trouble today, thanks to Derek and his pain leeching powers.

Every single door I passed along the way was closed, just like the day before, so that gave me no indication as to whether Derek's family was back or not. It didn't help that I couldn't hear any sound coming from inside of them either...

But, hey, I had had – almost – nine whole years of practice, I could stay quiet enough.

It was actually fairly easy finding the cupboard with all the cleaning supplies in. I mean, I guess it was kind of obvious that it would be in the one under the stairs, because a lot of people put cleaning things in there, but...

Anyway: I found the cleaning supplies.

I figured that I would have to do the same chores in this house as I did back at the Agency, that had to be why Derek took me. I mean, it was the only reason anyone – other than Melissa and Scott, of course – would take me out of that place.

Right?

Shaking my head, I just decided to just get on with it.

It would be easier that way.

* * *

Scrubbing.

Dusting.

Washing.

Cooking.

General cleaning...

I made sure everything was spotless and ready.

It had taken me five hours since I had gotten downstairs – it was now nine thirty in the morning – but I was done. Everything on the ground floor of the house was sparkling clean or ready to be eaten and drank.

No one could say that I didn't do my job properly.

"Stiles?" a voice from behind me yawned. "What are you doing down here?"

Spinning around, I pressed my back against the kitchen counter, head down.

"Cooking and cleaning, sir." I mumbled, adjusting my glasses. "I just finished."

"Stiles, you don't have to do that anymore." Derek sighed. "You don't have to do _any_ of that anymore."

"Why else did you take me, if not for this?"

"To save you, dumbass."

Even with Derek's ' _explanation_ ', I just didn't get it.

He could have had any of those kids – _supernatural_ kids. Kids like him!

But he took me?

Why me? What was I any good for?

I was useless!

Even though I was still confused, I didn't look up. I just frowned at the floor and pushed my glasses back up my nose. I mean, who was I to question that guy who owned me? Because that was who he was.

"Just sit down at the table, Stiles. Eat and drink." Derek grumbled. "It's going to be a _long_ day."

"May I ask: why?" I whispered, trying to make myself as small as possible as I sat down.

Even though my Adderall kicked in four and a half hours ago, sometimes I still lacked a filter... It had gotten me in trouble more times than I liked to admit.

"Well, considering the amount of things we need to buy for you, we're most likely going to be out for a few hours." Derek told me, sitting at the head of the table to my left. "We need to get you, pretty much, _everything_ that bitch should have provided for you."

"Ms Johnson always said that I had roof over my head and I didn't need anything else." I explained. "Said that a worthless human like me wasn't as important as the special ones at the Agency."

To me, it was something I had gotten used to. Something I had grown up hearing and, in turn, believing.

To Derek... Well, I didn't know _what_ he was thinking, but it mustn't have been good.

"She lied." Derek gritted out through his teeth. "Every word she ever said is a _lie_."

"But, Ms..." I started.

"And _don't_ say her name again!"

Biting my lip quickly, I stared down at the table.

This wasn't going very well...

* * *

In Derek's car my left leg wouldn't stop bouncing up and down; the fingers on my right hand drummed on my right thigh; the nail on my left thumb was getting murdered by my teeth...

So, yeah... Jittery.

I was diagnosed with ADHD at the age of four Well, ADHD hyperactive-impulsive. I was unable to sit still, especially in calm or quiet surroundings; constantly fidgeting; I was unable to settle to tasks...well, some tasks anyway, it depended what they were; I had excessive physical movement; I talked excessively, but only when I trusted the person, which hadn't happened since mom; I sometimes acted without thinking; I interrupted conversations; had little or no sense of danger.

So now, sitting in the calm and quiet, I couldn't help but fidget in my seat. Hence my jittery nature.

Some things had gotten worse over time, once the beatings started – like the not being able to sit still in the calm or quiet.

On top of it all, the skin of my right forearm started to burn, like I had a lighter held to it. I couldn't stand the irritation, the burning coming to a point where I had to try and scratch away the pain. This wasn't anything new; the burning had made an appearance before. Of course, at that time, the skin had broken... The pain wouldn't stop, so I kept scratching, making the already forming marks deeper... Those scars, unlike the ones on my back and torso, had disappeared.

"Stiles." a slightly irritated sigh came.

I didn't answer, just continued to pull at the skin with my nails, trying in vain to get rid of the itch, the chosen spot becoming very red, very fast. But it seemed that no matter what I did to it – left it, scratched it, pressed my palm/fist to it – it just got _worse_!

I didn't know I broke the skin of my forearm until it started to sting and a hand had grabbed my left wrist.

My head snapped up and to the side quickly, trying separately to get my arm away, coming face to face with Derek.

A frowning Derek.

A... _worried_ – was that worried or concerned? Wait they're the same thing aren't they? – Derek.

Derek didn't let go. Not until I calmed down and stopped trying to get out of his hold...which I will admit took longer than necessary for the average person... He didn't let go of my wrist until I had relaxed back into the seat a little – as well as adjusted my glasses and stared down at my lap again –, even though my left leg was still bouncing up and down and the fingers of my right hand were still drumming away.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, staring straight ahead, frowning slightly.

"A lot of things are wrong with me." I muttered. "But I have ADHD. I'm sorry, I can't control it."

Derek didn't reply. Instead he took his right hand – the one that had been keeping hold of my wrist – and slowly placed it on the lower part of my thigh, nearer my knee.

I froze at the initial contact, staring at the offending appendage. But somehow, for some reason, I didn't feel as anxious as I normally would have... Don't get me wrong, there was still that blinding panic.

It just wasn't at strong.

That had never happened before.

Of course, that didn't stop my breathing from becoming shallower and faster as the panic hit me.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles." Derek said, softly. "I won't ever hurt you."

* * *

An hour and forty six later, we pulled into a parking space in the parking lot of Red Bluff's mall. I had only ever been there once before – with Melissa and Scott – but it looked even bigger now than it ever did back then...

"Right, I have a list of things we need to get." Derek mumbled, digging in his pockets until he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "Clothes, shoes, cell phone, laptop, etcetera."

"All that, just for me?" I whispered to myself.

"There's _a lot_ more than just that. Come on."

And, with that, Derek had jumped out of his Camaro, just like he did when we pulled up in front of his house the day before.

Of course, this time, he decided to slam the door shut...

Yeah... Loud noises + Stiles = not good...

As soon as the sound reached my ears, I had the seatbelt off and was crouched in the foot-well of the passenger side of the car.

I was good with getting into small places... With being, pretty much, skin and bone, it was easy for me to fit into spaced that many others would never be able to fit.

Over time, it had proved _very_ useful...

In an instant, Derek had zoomed around the car and wrenched the door open, staring down at me, bewildered.

I remembered the first Scott I did it around Scott... The exact same face, only at that time it was an eleven year old that was aiming it at me. The first time that happened – the first time Scott looked at me like that – that was when I knew that my situation was _way_ worse than I had ever thought it was before.

"You have _a lot_ of explaining to do, later." Derek mused, stretching out a hand to help me up and out. "But let's focus on _this_ first."

I just nodded, adjusting my glasses.

* * *

I guess it was a good thing, shopping somewhere nobody knew us... I mean, at least I didn't have to worry about the others from the Agency following me, even if I did keep checking.

But it also meant that people weren't staring. They just assumed that Derek and I were two normal people, just walking straight on by.

It was, actually, kind of nice. Nobody knowing who I was, nobody judging...

It felt nice.

Derek had already dragged me into countless stores to get things for ' _my room_ '. Posters, books, bed sheets, blinds for the window, a _toothbrush_... Anything you could think of, he got for me. Laptop, cell phone...

We had _everything_ apart from shoes and clothes.

I couldn't even begin to count how many trips Derek had made to his car to put bags away. Well, no, that was a lie. I just had to count how many times to sheer panic – twenty eight, so far – I had felt when he left me _alone_ in a place I didn't know.

I know, it completely contradicts _everything_ I've already said but, hey, _everybody_ does that!

Anyway, getting off track here. Everything on Derek's list had been done, apart from shoes and clothes.

"I-I could just keep wearing what you found me in..." I mumbled. "I-I don't mind, I'm used to it."

"No, Stiles." Derek huffed. "And I swear, if you say that one more time..."

"I'm sorry, don't hit me!"

Derek froze on the spot and spun around to face me, disbelief covering his face.

"Hit you? Why would I...? You know what, don't answer that. I can guess." Derek growled. "Look, I told you, I won't ever hurt you. I was just going to say that if you said it one more time that when you were introduced to the youngest members of my family, I would not stop them from using you as a human colouring book. Their parents just bought them ink colouring pens and will draw on any _thing_ and any _one_."

And that? Well...that just made me a little fuzzy inside, and I _really_ didn't know why.

But I liked the feeling.

* * *

Derek dragged me into all kinds of clothing stores, chucking shirts and jeans and trousers and things at me to go try on.

Over half of the stuff went back to the racks.

Shoes were easy – sneakers, converse sneakers and, for some reason, dress shoes... Clothes, on the other hand, were where it got difficult.

There was one store I liked...

We had walked in and, straight away, my eye had been caught by something over to the right of the store, while Derek steered left.

"Oh." I whispered.

To the right of the store, I spotted t-shirts that were just me: Batman, Superman, Flash, Iron Man, Green Lantern, Hulk, Captain America, etcetera.

You name it.

Superhero t-shirts and checkered button down shirts and shirts with funny slogans and hoodies...

These were the kinds of clothes I would normally want to get. I never did back at the Agency, since Ms Johnson never liked when I had things.

Besides, having a plain t-shirt that was off a dark colour was easier to have. Especially if you were trying to hide blood, or something.

But the things I was looking at, at this instant, they were the things I wanted to have been getting ever since I was a little kid!

I started looking through the racks at everything there. There was a range of colours and pictures, everything!

I would have been happy just staying there.

"Stiles, come on." Derek called, closer than he was earlier.

I jumped back a little, guilty that I had veered off... I was always told never to run off, unless I wanted to be chained up like a dog.

Looking up slightly, I found Derek standing in front of me – _damn, werewolves were fast_ – his head cocked to the side, eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

"Marvel or DC?" he asked.

And I was _so_ not expecting that!

"Huh?" I replied, dumbly.

"Marvel or DC? Which do you prefer?" Derek asked, a shadow of a smile on his face.

This was something I _never_ thought I would talk to about with _Derek Hale_...

"Both. Marvel and DC both have their awesome heroes and I can't decide which I like. I mean, DC has: Superman, Green Lantern and Green Arrow – have you noticed they like the colour green? Not to mention: Batman, Flash and Catwoman." I nodded, grinning a little more as I kept speaking. "However, Marvel has: Captain America, Daredevil, Wolverine and the X-Men, Hawkeye, Thor and Iron Man – though not one of my favourites. So, you see, it's hard to choice when both have so many _awesome_ heroes _and_ villains! I just wish I still had my comic books. Ms...I mean, _she_ sold everything in my house, including said house... It was the only things she could sell. What she couldn't...well, I don't know where that all went, but the only thing she couldn't take was the money from my parents' life insurance...but I won't get them until I'm eighteen."

I had noticed Derek change during my little speech. At the beginning he had slowly started to smile more and more, looking less like the stoic Alpha everyone knew him as, and more of a...happy, approachable person.

But, as soon as I mentioned me comic books? He reverted straight back to stoic Alpha, growing tenser as I continued to speak, his jaw set. But he tried to stay calm on the outside, even though I could see through it all.

After a moment of silence, Derek moved slowly, so he didn't startle me, picking up one of each t-shirt, hoodie and checkered shirt there...

"Nobody knows this but I still have my comic books from when I was around your age. Still get every new one that's brought out." Derek said, quietly. "I have doubles of every single issue. They're yours now."

"What?" I breathed.

"They're yours. I've got two boxes, and each box is filled with the exact same comic books. One of those boxes is now yours. Now, help me get all of these to the cash register."

Today was just full of surprises.

* * *

Just before we went to leave to go back to Beacon Hills, I changed out of the sweatpants and t-shirt Derek let me borrow the day before, and into some of my new stuff.

Black and white converse sneakers with red laces, black skinny jeans, dark purple button down shirt and a blood red leather jacket with a soft-material hood.

The jacket was actually pretty comfy and _really_ awesome... But it took Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf to a _whole_ new level.

Anyway, so I had changed into things that actually _fit_ me and were _new_... It felt strange, but in a good way.

My life was actually... _changing_.

I had _way_ too many bags to count. They had all been put into the back of Derek's Camaro, filling up the backseat as well as the trunk. Like, seriously, there was so much!

"I've never had this much stuff." I muttered, starring out of the windshield.

I didn't expect a reply, and that was exactly what I got...

But I just had to say it.

I mean, I really never had this much stuff before, not even as a little kid!

I mean, sure, I had a lot before my parents died, but not this much... And it all just felt so _strange_ to me.

The rest of the ride back to the house was quiet, Derek not being much of a talker and me being told never to speak unless spoken to – unless it was Scott, Melissa or Derek before he took me away from the Agency.

I would have thought I'd start to panic again or the ride would go by so slowly I would be bored out of my _skull_... But, before I knew it, we were pulling up in front of it.

 _Still can't believe they live_ here _!_

* * *

Derek ran most of the bags into the house and up to, what he called, ' _my room_ '. Even the bags I had managed to grab and started taking into the house, he took and ran upstairs.

It took him ten trips, but he was there and back in a flash, what with his wolfy powers.

Where I thought he would have stayed inside after he took the last lot in, Derek did the complete opposite and ran back out, only to walk back in with me.

Even though it was weird, I appreciated it.

A lot.

"You can sort it out however you like." Derek told me as he closed the door and we walked further into the house. "Jasmine and the others are changing what they can for now, but the rest is up to you to place."

"Thank you." I nodded.

" _Oh, well isn't that sweet."_ a voice from behind us said. _"Such a polite Little Red."_


	10. A Whole New World

**Chapter 9**

** Stiles **

Instead of growling like I thought he would, Derek just groaned in annoyance.

Of course, me being as skittish as a cat in a house of dogs – basically what it was here – I ended up jumping round, but tripping over my own two feet and plummeting to the ground.

"Clumsy too." the man added.

Looking up at him, he looked a little like Derek, so I took a wild guess and said they were related in some way.

"I swear, one of these days you're going to do that to the wrong person and they will kill you." Derek grumbled, offering his hand to help me up off of the floor. "I thought you would have _stopped_ creeping around."

"Oh, but it's so entertaining." the man chuckled.

"Just ignore Peter, everybody does." another man said, appearing from the side.

"Oliver, don't give a bad fist impression." Talia – I recognised her, obviously – scolded, coming from the other side.

" _Derek, your back."_

" _What's going on out here?"_

" _Who's this?"_

" _Did Derek bring home a stray?"_

" _Derek, you didn't turn_ another _teenager, did you? What's the excuse this time?"_

So many voices mixed together as more and more people started appearing from different doors, forming a semicircle in front of Derek and me.

My only escape route – the front door – was already blocked by Peter and two women, and I didn't know the house well enough yet to actually run somewhere else. Not to mention, they were werewolves and I knew better than to try and run from the people that controlled me.

So I just stood there.

Heart pounding.

Eyes wide.

All I wanted to do was run, but I was rooted to the spot.

There were too many people. _Way_ too many people.

But then I was moving. Or _being_ moved, at least.

A hand was on my shoulder, pushing me towards the kitchen area and away from the many, _many_ werewolves.

As soon as I actually realised, I all but ran into the other room, trying to get away from all of them, trying to get the touching to stop.

The first thing I found was a small gap under the counter top, between the counter and the fridge. The gap was so small that only a baby – or me – could fit in it. So, I literally jammed myself into that space, curling in on myself.

I wasn't good with a lot of people.

" _...iles_?" a voice sounded. "Stiles!"

Even though I recognised Derek's voice, I couldn't bring myself to move.

Too many people of supernatural kind in one place with me around meant too many _bad things_ could happen all at once.

I had learnt that fairly quickly.

However, even though I stayed quiet, he still found me.

"Stiles?" Derek asked, softly, crouching down in front of the space. "What's going on?"

"People." I whispered, eyes wide. "So many people. So many _werewolves_."

I guess Derek understood, since he didn't ask anything else. All he did was try to get closer.

"You listen to me and you listen good." Derek said, quietly. "Those people out there _won't_ hurt you. The ones back at _that place_ will never hurt you again. As long as I'm around, that won't happen. Got it? Now, I need you to _breathe_ before you start to panic."

I just stared at him.

"You are _safe_." Derek muttered.

And I believed that.

I believed that I was safe.

For now.

I mean, Derek hadn't done anything to make me believe that he would hurt me, but I seemed to attract trouble no matter where I went.

Even though I believed him, I knew that something bad was going to happen sooner or later.

"Would it be better if I brought them in here? One by one?" Derek asked. "You can stand by one of the doors, if that makes you feel better."

At that, I slowly started to move, pushing myself out of the tight space. I think Derek was rather surprised that he didn't have to move the fridge to help me get out but, again, he didn't comment on it.

I liked that.

* * *

I sat at the end of the large table in the kitchen, with the back door right behind me. The door was open, making it feel less like I was boxed in and trapped, so that was a bonus. With a glass of water in my hands, Derek asked one more time if I was alright, before he left to bring one member of his family in at a time.

To be honest, I wasn't actually _sure_ if I was entirely alright or not... But I said yes anyway. I mean, there was sense in putting this encounter off – it was going to happen anyway.

I was actually quite happy that Talia was the first one in. I knew her – ish. Talia walked in smiling – I don't think there was _ever_ a time I had not seen her smiling – all calm and collected, just like you would expect an Alpha to be.

She didn't get to close. She didn't touch me a lot. She wasn't too loud. That was even better! Talia apologised for the fact that they all seemed to startle me, saying how their family did go a bit overboard with guests. She even told me how her husband Oliver reacted to meeting her family.

Oliver actually happened to be next. Derek was, pretty much, the spitting image of his dad. It was actually a little creepy. The only differences being that Oliver was older and smiled more. He was a nice guy, only touching me once when I shook my hand. Again, big plus.

Laura, Talia and Oliver's first child – Derek's older (twenty six year old) sister – came in after Oliver. She looked a lot like Talia, with the fact that she had dark eyes as well as dark hair – apparently all the women in the family were the same. Laura was quite laid back, nothing like I would have guessed, considering how Derek was. She was _very_ egger to tell me _all_ the embarrassing stories she had on her younger brother.

Cora – Talia and Oliver's youngest – was the same. I had seen her a lot around school, though she was a year above me – her being eighteen and all. Apparently Cora had spotted me around the school too, since she asked if I was the kid that was ' _constantly waving his arms around_ '. Unfortunately, I had to answer yes. Luckily, Derek was the one that mentioned my ADHD, to which Talia agreed to saying she could smell the Adderall.

Grace, or Gracie, was next. She was Talia's sister-in-law, married to Talia's brother Peter, who was the first person Derek and I had run into. Grace was very nice, very down-to-earth. She had been bitten by Talia after she and Peter had decided to marry, wanting to be linked to the guy she loved in every way. Grace was the only one in the family that was a bitten werewolf, the rest having been born that way.

Janice – or J –, Grace and Peter's eldest daughter, was Cora's age. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin like her mother. Like Cora, I had seen Janice around the school and vice versa. Not that I would come September, since they would be going to university apparently the local one, since they didn't want to go too far away from home. Janice, like her mother, was very down-to-earth and kind. She even said that if Derek was acting ' _like a little bitch_ ' that I should go to her and she'd sort him out for me. I couldn't help but laugh while Derek scowled.

Jessie and Luna, Grace and Peter's middle and youngest daughters, ran in after Janice. Jessie was seven – almost eight – while Luna had only recently turned four... They were _the cutest_ little kids I had seen, by _far_! And they both looked _a lot_ like their mom. Jessie was the calmer of the two, while Luna just wanted to talk. It was adorable. So adorable in fact, that they were the only two I got out of the chair for, sliding down to the floor so I was a similar height to the two of them. And Derek was right, they loved the ink pens that had been given and asked if they could give me ' _a tattoo like Rick had_ '. Apparently, to make it easier, Luna just called Derek ' _Rick_ ' or ' _Ricky_ ' and Jessie had just picked up on the kick names... It was adorable.

Peter was the last one. I wasn't too sure on what to make of Derek's uncle... I mean, already he seemed a bit... _creepy_. But I didn't know whether that was just a part of his personality, or what. All I knew was it was strange.

"You know, nephew, when I told you to find a poor, unfortunate soul from that agency, I assumed you _knew_ I meant one like us." Peter said, raising an eyebrow at Derek. "No offence, of course."

And, yeah, while I was kind of pissed off with that, I couldn't help but realise the guy had quoted _The Little Mermaid_. Yes he quoted the evil octopus witch, but he _still_ quoted it!

"Oh, I _knew_ what you meant." Derek nodded. "I just didn't see the relevance."

And, yeah, Derek gained some _serious_ brownie points with that...

Even Talia seemed pleased with Derek's answer.

"Yes, Peter. What _is_ the relevance of bringing back a werewolf child?" Talia asked. "Why not Stiles?"

"Well, the whole point was so Derek would be able to learn the responsibility of looking out for another person, so he could become a better Alpha." Peter shrugged. "Surely, that would be better if it was a werewolf he brought home."

"Can we not make Stiles sound like a pet from the animal shelter, I doubt he likes it." Laura glared.

I think Laura was the only one who realised that how it was coming across. And at least Talia and Peter and the decency to seem ashamed of that...

"It doesn't matter if Stiles is human or like us or _whatever_." Laura continued. "The fact is he's family now."

Family.

_Family._

Was I family?

Did I even know how to be a part of a family anymore?

I hadn't had a family in, almost, nine years.

Was I even good enough?

* * *

I had managed to slip away two hours after Derek and I had walked back into the house. I had seen Jasmine – and a few others that I had yet to meet – come downstairs, and I couldn't help but look over at the stairs...

Derek had noticed, unlike the others, telling me that it was completely fine if I wanted to go upstairs and sort everything out.

I was out of the living room – where we had all migrated – as quickly as possible.

That was why I was up in, what Derek called, ' _my room_ ' at this moment in time.

All the bags that Derek had run from his car to the room were either on or gathered around the bed. There were so many...and I had no idea where to start with them.

So, for a moment, I just stood there, looking around for a moment.

I saw that Jasmine and the others had changed the blinds – now a chocolate brown – and the sheets on the bed – now black. Apparently I still got to have the purple and blue that was on there before, but I needed new ones for when they were being washed.

Well, that's what Derek had said, anyway.

"Might as well start with the clothes." I muttered as my eyes landed on the giant oak wardrobe.

Opening the doors and draws to the wardrobe, I already found hangers inside it. It made things easier, at least.

The bags filled with clothes were the ones closest to me on the bed, so grabbing them I moved the bags over to the wardrobe.

T-shirts, button down shirts, jackets and hoodies went into the main body.

Jeans and trousers went into two of the draws.

Joggers in another draw.

Pyjama stuff in the bottom two draws.

Sneakers, converses and dress shoes – still didn't understand why I had dress shoes... – were put at the bottom of the main body of the wardrobe, just so I had _somewhere_ to put them.

I placed the laptop and cell phone on the desk, along with the pens, pencils and notepads.

I placed the books on the shelves that were dotted around the room, stacked some on the desk and stacked others on top of the draws.

I put the posters up with the blue-tack that, I assumed, Jasmine had left out of me.

I put everything that Derek had gotten for me away in a place that I thought it should go.

It was after I placed the empty bags into an empty draw that I noticed the box sitting on the pillows. Tilting my head to the side slightly, I lifted the lid, only to smile a little a second later.

_**Like I said, this box belongs to you now.** _

– _**Derek**_

I was going to make a lot of time go by, by re-reading these comic books.

* * *

I didn't know how long I had been up there reading the comics but, the next thing I knew; there was a knock at the door.

I picked my head up as it opened; I saw a little head peak round the door.

"Hey... Y-You're Luna, right?" I smiled as the onesie-wearing little girl walked into the room.

"That me." she smiled. "I come in?"

"Sure."

The little girl grinned, pushing the door closed before – literally – zooming over to me and scrambling onto the bed to sit in front of me.

I couldn't help but laugh a little as I placed the comics to the side.

"Mommy said I have nap." Luna explained. "But can't sleep."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." I muttered.

"Can you tell me a story?"

And that really wasn't what I was expecting to hear...

But, then again, I didn't expect Luna to be the one to walk through the door.

"You look like good story teller." she giggled.

"Well, I find that stories keep me awake." I said. "Don't you?"

"Only good ones."

"I prefer songs. They seem to work better."

I honestly didn't realise what I said until I saw her face light up and her eyes grow wide.

I really shouldn't have said that...

I hadn't actually sung since the day my mom and dad died.

I didn't know if I was any good... Let alone if I could actually get a _child to sleep_ by singing! A child I _just_ met, at that!

_You're an idiot, Stilinski._

"Can you sing to me?" Luna asked, springing up onto her knees, clutching the teddy bear she had – apparently – brought with her. "Please?"

It was the look on her face that made it impossible to say no.

So I just nodded and told her to choose a song.

Of course, given her age, it was _going_ to be a Disney song. But I was totally fine with that – I loved Disney! And she just so happened to pick _one_ of my many favourite songs.

"So, will you sing it?" she asked.

Instead of saying anything, I just sighed, smiled a little and started singing.

" _I can show you the world_  
Shining, shimmering, splendid  
Tell me, princess, now when did  
You last let your heart decide?  
I can open your eyes  
Take you wonder by wonder  
Over, sideways and under  
On a magic carpet ride  
A whole new world  
A new fantastic point of view  
No one to tell us no or where to go  
Or say we're only dreaming"

During the song Luna started to slide over until she was sitting next to me, leaning her head against my arm.

She hugged her bear tighter as her eyes started to slowly close.

" _A whole new world_  
A dazzling place I never knew  
But when I'm way up here, it's crystal clear  
That now I'm in a whole new world with you  
Princess Jasmine: Unbelievable sights  
Indescribable feelings  
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling  
Through an endless diamond sky  
A whole new world  
A hundred thousand things to see  
I'm like a shooting star  
I've come so far  
I can't go back  
To where I used to be"

Looking down at the four year old next to me, I noticed the small smile on her fairy-like face.

She was definitely an adorable little girl...and was actually a little similar from what I thought my own sister might be like if I ever had one.

I mean, even after knowing her for only two hours, she was bubbly and excitable and just too damn cute. I would have _loved_ to have a little sister like her...

" _A whole new world_  
Every turn a surprise  
With new horizons to pursue  
Every moment gets better  
I'll chase them anywhere  
There's time to spare  
Let me share this whole new world with you  
A whole new world  
A whole new world  
That's where we'll be  
That's where we'll be  
A thrilling place  
A wondrous place  
For you and me."

By the end of the song, Luna was fast asleep and had completely sagged against me. So, gently, I laid her back, moved the box of comic books out of the way, before getting off of the bed and walking around to the side of the bed Luna was laying.

I remembered having to do this kind of thing when I used to help my mom look after the neighbour's kids. They weren't that much younger than me, but I still helped out and carried them to bed if they fell asleep on the couch.

Making sure Luna still had a hold of her bear; I carefully lifted the little girl off of the bed, holding her so she was resting on my hip.

She stirred a little, but only moved enough to place her left thumb in her mouth.

Smiling a little, I walked her out of my room and down to the second floor of the house. I remembered, during the tour of the house, Derek had mentioned that he and I were the only two on the top floor, the rest of his family on the second. He said it was ' _a long story_ ' and I didn't feel right questioning it.

* * *

**Derek**

Stiles didn't even notice me sitting on the stairs as he walked past; although that _may_ have had something to do with the fact my youngest cousin was obscuring his vision.

I had come to check to see if he was alright, considering he had been gone for three and a half hours. But as soon as I saw Luna wander out of her room and up the stairs instead of down, I had to see what was going to happen.

Not many people would have indulged a kid in anything they asked, especially when you only just met them.

But there was always something... _special_ about Stiles.

He was actually a good singer, definitely better than anyone in _this_ house.

Standing, I made my way back downstairs. Stiles could probably do with some time to himself before he had to face my family again.

"Is he alright, Bunny?" mom asked as I walked back into the living room.

"I thought we got rid of that nickname." I groaned, nudging both of my sisters as they laughed. "Mom, you realise I don't have ' _bunny teeth_ ' anymore?"

"Of course, but your still my Bunny. Now answer the question."

"He's fine. Luna got there first. Nothing to worry about."

"Good. Now, tell us what happened at the Agency."


	11. Nightmare

**Chapter 10**

** Stiles **

When I was back in ' _my room_ ', after putting Luna back in her room, I went over to the desk and grabbed my backpack. I chucked it onto the – immaculately – made bed before, carefully, packing up the comics and moving the box onto the floor.

Only once the box was out of the way did I climb onto the bed, sitting cross legged in the middle and facing the headboard.

Everything, from the moment Derek got me out of _That Place_ had just been... _strange_. Well, to me they had been strange.

I was used to people hitting me whenever I took a breath... But that hadn't happened until Derek took me away.

Sighing slightly, I unzipped my backpack, carefully unloading it onto the space in front of me. It was large enough that I could keep all my school stuff in it, as well as a few...personal things. Things that I had managed to hide from Ms Johnson.

I took out the red hoodie that used to belong to my dad.

I took out the Alice Blue teardrop pendant that used to belong to my mom.

I took out _the only_ picture I had of my dad, my mom and me.

Lastly, I took out a black, toy wolf cub with red, glass eyes...the one my mom and dad picked out for me when I was born – _I named it_ Wolfy _...original, right?_

Off of the table beside the bed, I grabbed a box that Derek had bought me earlier that day. It looked a bit different to how it looked earlier, but he said it would... He said he would make it so no one in the house – _no supernatural creature_ – could open it. It was a simple wooden box. Well...it _had_ been, but now there was a mark carved into it – the triskele. I knew all the meanings of it, there were _loads_...and it was obvious it had been made with a wolf's claws.

I liked it...

Sighing, I carefully placed the pendant and the picture inside the box, closing and padlocking – _it was a combination lock_ – it. The hoodie and Wolfy, however, were placed under the pillows, making sure it wasn't obvious there was nothing under there.

Of course, I would have to find a more permanent place for those two to go... Anything could happen if someone came into the room.

And I _couldn't_ lose them. Not any of them.

* * *

** Derek **

"Oh, that poor boy." Grace whispered, her voice cracking.

"He seemed... _used_ to it?" dad spat.

"And you saw a kid trying to do _what_?" Laura mumbled, looking sick.

"I suppose that place really isn't as good as I thought." Peter gulped, shell-shocked.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Cora breathed, scrunching her eyes closed.

Mom said nothing. But her scent said _more_ than enough...

She was pissed.

 _More_ that pissed.

She was angrier than she had ever been, but she contained it.

"I couldn't let him stay there." I told them, quietly. "He told me that, if he left, they would have thought he was with Scott McCall and couldn't risk them hurting Scott and his mother. They know where Stiles and Scott go; they can get to him at the school... He said that they would, probably, try to kill him; he thought he could deal with it; that he didn't want anyone else getting hurt because of him."

"No wonder he was so frightened." Janice murmured to herself. "Poor Stiles."

"Why would his parents just leave him there?" Cora mused, bitterly.

A low, quiet growl came from my mother then.

She turned slowly towards us, her eyes flashing red every so often.

I had _never_ seen her like this before... Well, not that I could remember anyway.

"Because neither of them knows. That's all I will tell you, it's up to Stiles to explain when and _if_ he wants to." mom said, evenly. "Right now, we have to find a way to shut them down."

"We can't do that already?" Grace asked, bemused.

"We need evidence. And I doubt Stiles will willingly give up anything he knows at this moment in time."

Clenching my jaw and curling my hands into fists, I jumped up and stalked out of the house.

I never liked my family seeing me angry.

I never liked my family seeing me as an Alpha.

I never liked getting like this.

It wasn't that I was ashamed of who I was. I'm _proud_ to be a werewolf! I just didn't like hurting my family.

* * *

** Stiles **

" _Come on, keep running! That's a good boy, keep running!" dad yelled, keeping a tight hold of my hand. "Come on son, keep running for me! Please!"_

_Tears were running down my face._

_My eyes were red and puffy._

_My throat was sore, but I couldn't feel it._

_My hair was greasy._

_I was a little muddy and a lot scrapped._

_I didn't see the uneven pavement. I tripped, letting go of my dad's hand, my backpack hitting the back of my head. I couldn't get up, but I heard the man behind me. I heard the bad man behind me._

" _Daddy!" I cried, struggling to get up, struggling to breathe._

" _Genim!" dad screamed, skidding and running back for me. "Come on, buddy! We have to keep going!"_

_Dad picked me up this time, holding me close to him and tucking my head under his chin. I buried my face into my dad's Sheriff shirt._

_I thought he was going to keep going. Keep going until we got to Melissa's or to the others._

_But there was a loud bang._

_Dad couldn't run. He was hobbling._

" _Daddy!" I chocked, gripping onto his shirt tighter, crying more._

" _It's alright, Genim. Everything's going to be alright." he whispered._

_I thought he was going to keep going. But he turned right instead._

_I heard a door open before dad was begging someone to look after me._

_Begging them to take me before it was too late._

_Begging them to keep me safe._

" _I love you, Genim." dad whispered, hugging me tightly, kissing my forehead. "I love you. Mommy loves you. We both love you so much, baby boy. We_ love _you."_

" _Love you, daddy." I whimpered, clutching him tighter._

_Then I was pushed away from him._

_I tried to get to him, but someone was holding me back._

_Then I saw the bad man._

" _DADDY!" I screamed._

_The bad man lifted his gun, pointing it right at my dad..._

_BANG!_

I woke up screaming, thrashing around.

Someone was holding onto me, stopping my arms from moving... I didn't know who it was. Panicked, I just tried to lash out, did whatever I could do.

" _...iles! Stiles,_ calm down _! You need to_ calm down _!"_ someone was saying. _"You're alright, it was only a nightmare_."

"Dad! Dad! No! Dad! NO!" I screamed. " _DAD!_ "

* * *

I wasn't sure how long it took, but soon I had fully come out of the nightmare, realising it was Derek who had been stopping me from hurting myself and helping me.

He sat there, the whole time, holding my arms down with one of his, while the hand of his other arms ran through my hair. That was something my mom used to do...whenever I was agitated or scared.

It always helped.

I sat there, shaking, a few tears still rolling down my face... I didn't bother to hide them or wipe them away.

"It's ok. It was just a nightmare." Derek whispered, pulling me in closer and still running a hand through my hair.

I would have panicked if I didn't feel so numb.

"It was a memory." I muttered. "Of the night my mom and dad died."

"They... What?" Derek replied, frown evident in his voice.

Sighing, I screwed my eyes shut as more tears came to the surface.

"August twenty-fifth two-thousand and three." I whispered, hoarsely. "My mom died of Frontotemporal dementia in the hospital. It had been building up for _years_ and there was nothing we could do to stop it. She was in so much pain... I was in her room when she died; my dad – the Sheriff – was forced out to a crime scene. My dad came to the hospital, crying, but he came over to me and said we had to run. That a bad man was after him."

I breathed deeply, shakily, memories and flashes and _screams_ of _That Night_ coming back to me.

"The guy blamed my dad for not locking up his wife's killer. Thing was, there was no killer...she had killed herself. But the guy blamed my dad." I continued, chocking on my words. "We ran. He could only get me as far as _That Place_. He had been shot in the leg while we had been running and couldn't keep going. He begged for _her_ to look after me. I watched from the side, being held back, as some _asshole shot_ my dad right in front of me."

I tried to muffle a sob as it broke out of my throat. The next words were the hardest to get out.

"I was _covered_ in my dad's blood and I saw it pool out of him as he lay there, on the ground, facing me. That _psycho_ took off and I was forced to clean the blood off of the _fucking window_ of that _fucking_ Agency!" I cried. "That all happened the _day before_ I turned _eight_! I was _seven years old_ turning _eight the next day_ and _that_ happened! And I've had to relive it _every fucking night_!"

Derek said nothing. It was _the best_ response I had gotten out of _anyone_.

Other people would say they felt sorry for me or some shit... I didn't need people to tell me that. I just wanted someone to listen. Someone that _wasn't_ close to the subject like Scott. Just _someone_!

Who knew Derek was the perfect person for that?

* * *

I woke up the next day – Tuesday, June 12th – alone, wearing my dad's old, red hoodie and clinging on to Wolfy.

I never remembered taking them out from under the pillows...

_Derek..._

Even though I was awake, I didn't open my eyes. I just buried my head further into the fur on the back of Wolfy, pushing the hood on my head further down my face.

I hadn't worn the hoodie in years... It always hurt too much to put it on. But, after last night...it felt strangely comforting. It still hurt, yes, just not as much as before.

Not many people knew what it was like to lose both parents.

Everyone always thought it hurt more losing them before you got to know them... But, in reality, it hurt _more_ when you lost them _after_ you got to know them. A part of you was missing then, a part of you that you would never get back. You lost that bond. You lose a part or yourself and it eats away at you from the inside.

It was one of, if not _the_ , worst feeling, _ever_.

I missed them every day.

And it was all my fault they were gone.

Wiping away the water that started to gather in my eyes, I squeezed Wolfy tightly before placing him back under the pillows. I kept my dad's hoodie on over the pyjamas though – black plaid pyjama bottoms and a long sleeved red t-shirt.

It was warm.

It was cosy.

It _still_ smelled like my dad's cologne.

All I did next was open the box, pulling out my mom's pendant, fastening it around my neck before closing said box again and heading to the en suite bathroom.

* * *

I didn't get dressed, hoping to God that Derek _really_ did mean that I could wear whatever I wanted. All I did was pull on a pair of socks and slip my glasses on before leaving the room and heading downstairs.

When Derek had checked on my last night – before the nightmare, before I fell asleep – he had let me know that his family were going out and would all be coming home at different times, a little later in the day. So, for now, it was just the two of us and the ' _staff_ '.

However, as I walked down the last few stairs, I heard voices.

" _Why are we here?"_ a bored, male voice asked.

" _You know why."_ I heard Derek growl.

The next thing I heard was footsteps.

Footsteps that were coming closer. I backed up a little, until my heels hit the last step, stumbling slightly. I would have fallen, if I wasn't caught.

Of course Derek would have caught me.

"Come on." he said, quietly, with a small warm smile.

Derek kept a hand on my shoulder as he guided me round the corner and into the living room.

It was obvious to know that his Pack was there – well, obvious after I heard that first voice, anyway.

I didn't look at any of them as we walked in, opting to keep my head down and ball the end of the left sleeve of my dad's hoodie in my left hand, squeezing the material tightly.

" _STILES_!" a familiar voice yelled.

I jumped back towards the door, my head snapping up.

I couldn't believe what I saw.

" _SCOTT_?!" I yelled back. "Why the _hell_ didn't you tell me you were in his Pack?!"

"Why the _hell_ did you let someone you _barely know_ help you but _not me_?!" Scott fumed.

" _YOU KNOW WHY_!"

"Wait! You _knew_?" Derek said, lowly, turning to Scott.

Everything was silent for a while.

Nobody said anything.

Nobody moved.

Nothing happened.

It was only as I shifted slightly that it all blew up.

"Of course I knew!" Scott screamed.

"Why didn't you _do_ anything?!" Derek shouted.

"He wouldn't let me!"

"You should have tried _harder_! What kind of friend are you?!"

"One that _tried_ to get him to leave. One that got him out of that place for six out of seven nights. One that _tried_ to help!"

"Well, _obviously_ you didn't do a good job!"

"I didn't know what to do!"

"You could have _said_ something!"

" _ENOUGH_!" I yelled. " _JUST STOP IT! STOP IT!_ "

Neither of them had realised that their eyes were glowing and claws were out...

Neither of them noticed how close they had gotten to each other...

Neither of them noticed that they were about to fight it out...

Neither of them noticed that was _not_ a good idea.

Of course, as soon as I opened my mouth, they both snapped out of it.

"Wait. _Stilinski_ was the abused kid you rescued from that adoption agency?" Boyd asked, a little doubtful.

Everything, for the second time, grinded to a halt.

My blood ran cold.

I felt myself tense up.

To be honest, I don't think I was breathing.

I felt light headed.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

But, most of all, I felt _betrayed_.

"You...toldthem?" I whispered, staring blankly at an empty spot on the wall.

"Stiles, calm down." Scott tried.

Slowly, I started to turn to face Derek.

"You _told_ them." I said, slightly stronger now.

"Stiles..." Scott muttered.

Before I knew it, something in my head just... _snapped_.

" _YOU TOLD THEM_?!" I shrieked. "I _TRUSTED_ YOU, DEREK, AND YOU WENT AND BLOODY _TOLD THEM_! WHAT THE HELL, YOU ASSHOLE!"

I didn't know what I picked up. All I knew was, when I threw it, it broke.

I didn't even care anymore.

I knew this would probably be the tipping point, making Derek act like _they_ did...

But I didn't care.

I wanted it to be over already.

"You. _Lied_!" I hissed, before storming out of the living room.

* * *

Thankfully, I still had shoes by the front door, so I shoved them roughly onto my feet before walking out of the house and walking slightly into the woods. I kept by the edge, making sure I could still see the house as I sat down on the ground and leant against the trunk of a tree.

I didn't want people to know about the Agency. That's why I kept quiet.

 _Scott_ knew that! Surely it was obvious.

It was personal.

Something I didn't want to share!

But Derek just went and blurted it out to people that don't even like me! Well, apart from Allison. Allison liked me and she was awesome.

But Derek shouldn't have told them! There are certain things you don't go telling people and Derek just went and did one of those things!

It hurt to think I trusted him a little...

I heard someone making their way towards me after a few minutes of being alone. I could already tell it was Scott – obvious by his footfalls. And, yeah, it was _really_ weird how I could tell the difference between Scott's and someone else's.

"You had every right to be angry, dude." Scott said. "And you can still stay at mine if things get too overwhelming here. You always have a place there, remember?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." I nodded, quietly. "I just... _why_?"

"I don't know. All he said to us was Peter had an idea, that he rescued one of the kids from an agency – didn't specify one... Then, this morning before you came down, he said how the one he got out of that place wasn't fairing well... Of course, we all knew what that meant. He said we should know, since you're Pack now."

"Still doesn't excuse the fact that..."

"I know. And I don't care if he's my Alpha, I'm behind you every step of the way, bro."

Scott, even though he kept the little factoid about being in Derek's Pack a secret, was someone I _knew_ I could trust.

Scott dropped an arm – carefully – around my shoulders, shuffling a little closer. He was the only one that could get physically close to me like this without me flinching back or panicking. I had known Scott my _entire_ life; I knew he wasn't going to hurt me. He was my best friend. He was my _brother_. But...

"I'm still mad at you." I muttered.

"I thought you knew!" Scott whined.


	12. Lucky

**Chapter 11**

** Stiles **

Scott and I didn't go back into the house for a _long_ while. Even when we did, we went up to the room I had been using.

The next day though, I couldn't hide out... If I did, I'd probably be dragged out by my hair, just like at the Agency... I _so_ didn't want that. So, I was out of the room and downstairs at normal time, cleaning and cooking as always.

Of course, after I was finished, I slipped on my converse sneakers and hid outside. I didn't go too far though. I mean, I didn't really know the preserve well and I'd rather not get lost, you know? So, instead, I sat under the same tree as the day before.

I never really got to spend time in the open air with the trees. I was always in town or in the Agency... When I was a kid, sure, I used to go out into the woods with my mom and dad all the time, having picnics and stuff. But nothing since the night they died.

Bringing my right hand up to my mom's necklace and my left up to the rope-thing on my dad's red hoodie, I gripped onto the two tightly, squeezing my eyes closed and willing myself not to cry.

It happened most of the time when I thought of my parents – crying. Sometimes I could stop it, keep control of myself and keep the wall up... But, sometimes, that wall came crumbling down and there was nothing I could do to keep even a little bit of it standing.

That was, pretty much, my life. Trying to keep the walls around me up until I couldn't hold on to them anymore...

Life had, already, screwed me over in the most epic of ways... I didn't think it could get any worse, if I was being honest.

* * *

Scott and the rest of his 'Pack' appeared later in the day – around ten in the morning, so it was later for me. Scott was, of course, the first to spot me and – along with Allison – came over to me. I was rather glad that none of the others tried to do something like that... I mean, it would have just been creepy!

The two sat with me outside, ignoring the yells of their Pack Mates in favour of sticking with me, just talking, as if it were a normal day.

In the end, the others gave up.

"You were up at the ass-crack of dawn again, weren't you?" Scott sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Dude, you don't have to do that anymore."

"Old habits die hard." I shrugged.

At that, Allison shuffled closer slightly, wrapping her arms around me in a lose hug. Over the course of almost-but-not-quite a year, I had gotten used to Allison making physical contact with me in some way, meaning I didn't tense or panic... After yesterday, she was now in the know of why I usually did that, though.

They all were.

I had a feeling that Jackson would have no worries in letting his whole gang of misfits know just how hard the nerd has it already... There'd probably be new nicknames, rumours that would spread like wildfire, more bruises...

Yeah, I could see that happening.

"Don't worry, dude. They know not to say anything." Scott told me, his shoulder bumping mine. "They know what'll happen if _anyone_ finds out."

Now, a threat coming from Scott was like an evil glare from a tiny, fluffy puppy... It was just too adorable to take seriously. To me, Scott was always like that but, apparently, he could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be... I _still_ didn't believe that.

" _I'd_ love to know what would happen if they told anyone." I teased.

"Shut up." he grinned, shoving me slightly, making me fall against Allison.

"Dude, surely _I_ should be pushing _you_ into your girlfriend, not the other way around."

Sometimes, I forgot everything bad when I was with Scott. He and Melissa were the only consistent things in my life... They both made me feel happy, made the world a little brighter...

This was why they were the only family I had left.

* * *

Allison, Scott and I ended up walking into the house after two hours, right when it was time for lunch. Allison watched as I jumped onto an unsuspecting Scott's back, surprising the teen wolf and sending both of us crashing to the ground.

Now, because it was a rather loud sound and no one but Allison was around the witness it, it was obvious that the other occupants of the house and Derek's Pack would think that something, you know, _bad_ was happening. So I really _shouldn't_ have been surprised when a wolf – an _actual_ wolf, not werewolf, but a _wolf_ – came running and growling into the hall just in front of the front door.

But I was.

Now, me being me, I obviously screamed – well, not screamed, but let out a yell – and scrambled backwards until my back hit a wall, pressing myself as far back into it as possible, much like I did on the day Derek first brought me to the house.

"Holy shit!" I shrieked, as more of Derek's family came charging in.

"Talia?" Oliver said to the wolf. "Perhaps you should go to our room and change back, my love."

The wolf – it had stopped growling as soon as I had yelled – batted its – her? – head against Oliver's leg, before turning around and softly strolling up the stairs.

As I watched the wolf as it walked away, I started to feel how fast my heart was racing, knowing the werewolves could hear it loud and clear, like a kick drum. But I didn't care. I was more bothered about the fact _that_ had _just_ happened!

I mean... What the _actual_ hell?!

Looking up slightly, I noticed that Scott had moved so he was next to – just in front of – me. He had done this a lot in the time that I had known him... _If_ he had been there all the times Octavian – or some of the others – had attacked me, I'm guessing he would have done it then too.

Scott seemed to pay no attention to the others, instead holding out his hand to help me up. Grabbing on to his forearm, Scott pulled me up, helping me to keep balance while I got my land legs back.

"Well... That was fucking terrifying." I mused.

* * *

It took a while for my heart rate to return to normal.

It took a while before I could actually go near anyone other than Allison and Scott.

It took a while before I could actually _look_ at anyone after what happened with Talia.

It's embarrassing, showing people just how badly you were affected by other supernatural beings. Sure, other people would have been freaked out by the whole real-wolf-is-coming-at-me-and-growling-thing too, but they would have calmed down after a minute or two...not an hour or so.

Of course, by the time I was back to, what I guess you could call a, 'calm state', the only people left in the living room was Derek and his Pack of teenagers.

I sat, curled, in the corner of a couch, Scott and Allison next to me, almost hiding me from the rest of them. I had lost count of how many times they had, subconsciously, done this...but, no matter what, when I was with them, they were always right by my side when something went wrong.

At least I had those two in my life.

"Well, that was...interesting." Danny mused, trying to make light of the situation.

Needless to say, it didn't really work...

* * *

Thursday, June 14th – the next day – Derek's Pack was there again. And, just like the day before, I avoided everyone and stuck close to Allison and Scott. It was what I would have done anyway, even if Derek hadn't completely outed my life story to a bunch of people – except Allison – who couldn't give two shits about me.

And, of course, Jackson was being his usual douchey self – no surprise there! It was like another day at school... _Great_.

However, I managed to slip away when they were training. It wasn't like I was needed – or wanted by anyone but Scott and Allison. No one would care, so I left and went up to the room I was set up in.

That's where I was when Talia and the rest of Derek's family left; little Luna and Jessie coming to say that they would see me later before they left. Those two had to be my favourites out of the Hales, but the little kids always were. I remember the little kids at the Agency were the only ones that were even a little bit nice to me – until Ms Johnson turned them all against me and they treated me like everyone else did...

It was thoughts like that that made me realise that I couldn't get too comfortable with the Hales. Everyone – apart from the McCall's – turned against me at some point! Someday, the Hales would too... So I couldn't get too attached to them. I mean, they sure as hell wouldn't get attached to me.

I was, as Ms Johnson put it, ' _that rat that everybody couldn't wait to get rid of_ '. I was the ' _thing_ ' that everybody wanted to return and never see again... I was the unwanted. I couldn't get too comfortable with them, because one day I'd have to leave.

The thought hurt. Hurt to the point of my throat becoming tight and a little scratchy... So, sighing, I headed downstairs to get a glass of water. If I could, I would have avoided it all together – I had been good at that ever since Derek let the cat out of the bag. Avoiding people was what I was best at – sometimes.

I tried to be as quite as possible. They were still outside training; that much was obvious by how quite the house was, so hopefully that meant that I wouldn't run into anyone.

I glanced at the clock as I walked into the kitchen, seeing that I had been up in my room for a couple of hours. Definitely longer than I thought I had been... Grabbing a clean class from the cabinet, I filled it with water, leaning against the counter as I drank it slowly, trying to sooth the ach in my throat.

It only seemed to get worse.

Placing the glace down, I placed my hands on the counter in front of my, letting my head drop forward.

Life sucked.

* * *

I didn't know how long I had been standing there when the kitchen door – the one leading to the forest/back yard opened with a bang. Jumping from the noise, I knocked the glass off of the counter... But a hand caught it just before it hit the ground.

"You _really_ need to work on _not_ being clumsy." Jackson groused, placing the glass down harshly on the counter.

I couldn't help the flinch as the sound of the glass hitting the marble echoed through the kitchen, nor could I help the step back I took. Surprisingly, Jackson said nothing. I turned my back on him, pushing my glasses back up the bridge of my nose, placing the glass in the dishwasher as Jackson grabbed bottled water and juice from the fridge.

"You know, when it's sunny, normal people are outside. _Not_ hiding in their room." Jackson quipped.

"I'm not hiding." I mutter, grabbing a bottle of water and a can of soda for myself – might as well whilst I was there.

"And he speaks! And here I was thinking you'd gone mute."

"I don't see why you hate me."

With a quick glare, I walked out of the kitchen, running up the stairs as soon as I reached them. The faster I was back in that room, the better.

* * *

Sitting down on the bed, placing the drinks on m table, I relaxed back slightly, thinking I had just dodged Jackson's wrath.

But I was wrong.

I couldn't have been in my room more than three minutes when my door slammed open, a very pissed Jackson Whittemore crashing in...

"You want to know why I hate you, Stilinski?!" he growled. "Fine, I'll tell you. You're _lucky_ to have known your parents. You're _lucky_ to know what they looked like and were like. I know _nothing_ about mine! But here you are _complaining_ that they're gone! Well, some of us don't know them!"

Something about Jackson's words got to me.

It broke something deep inside of me.

Let lose something I didn't know was there.

I knew this because, the next thing I knew, I was in his face and had hit him in the stomach with a Chemistry text book.

"Screw. You!" I seethed. "Screw you! You have two parents. You have a family. You _belong_! Are you telling me you would rather have known your parents and then, after seven, almost eight, years you watch _both_ of them die? Are you telling me you would rather clean your father's blood off of the sidewalk and a widow? To be _covered_ in his blood?"

With every step I took closer to Jackson, he took a larger one back, eyes a little wider than usual, mouth agape. Even I was surprised, but I couldn't stop.

"It _hurts_ not having them now, _after_ I'm gotten to know them, because I know how _good_ and _kind_ and _caring_ they were! How much they _LOVED ME_! I HAVE TO LIVE EVERYDAY WITHOUT THEM! YOU HAVE TWO PARENTS THAT LOVE YOU UNCONDITIONALLY, AND YOU'RE SAYING _I'M_ LUCKY?! Fuck you, Jackson! FUCK YOU!"

I made Jackson back up until he was out of the room, slamming the door in his face before locking it. After I was sure it was secure, I turned so my back was against the wood, sliding down and just letting the dam break, crying right there on the floor.

I didn't care about the tears.

I didn't care that everybody could hear me.

I didn't _care_!

All I cared about was the gaping hole that was left. The raw open wound that stung all the time; that would never heal. _Nothing_ could make it better.

* * *

It must have been an hour – at least – later when the lock to the door was picked – _stupid werewolves_. But, as the door opened, I realised it was Scott; the tension that I didn't know was there, draining slightly from me.

I had moved to the bed shortly after I heard Jackson go back downstairs, sitting on it with my back to the headboard, knees drawn the my chest and head down. I was still like this when Scott walked in and sat to my right, his arm going around my shoulders and pulling me closer. It was something he always did, ever since we were kids.

We were practically brothers, so it wasn't weird for us.

"We heard what happened with you and Jackson." he told me, not that he needed to. "You never told me about that part with your dad..."

"There's a lot I haven't told you. Couldn't tell you." I whispered, voice hoarse.

"Guessed as much."

A silence trailed on after Scott's utterance, the room seeming too quiet. An itch started below my skin, slight at first – almost like a tingle. I started to rub at the itch in my left wrist with my palm... It was obvious that Scott caught it. But, before he could say anything, I jumped in.

"Scott?" I whispered, again.

"Yeah, buddy?" he replied, equally as quiet.

"I want my mom."

I felt Scott start slightly. I always knew he found it strange, how I never once mentioned how I wanted with of my parents back... But, just because I never said it, didn't mean I didn't want them.

"I want my mom." I said again, a little louder this time, more tears rolling down my cheeks leaving warm-cold trails."I want my dad. I don't know what to do, but they always seemed to have the answers... And I can't ask them for help. I'm so... _scared_ all the time and nothing seems to make it alright, Scott... I-I just want them back."

As my voice broke on my last word, before I dissolved into more tears, Scott pretty much suffocated me with how hard he hugged me.

Even though I considered Scott family, his hugs wouldn't be the same as my mom and dad's.

* * *

After that day, everyone started acting _nice_.

It wasn't a shock coming from Scott and Allison, though they did go overboard sometimes, but from: Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Danny, Jackson and Lydia? Yeah, that was... _surprising_ , to say the least. It was actually _really_ creepy.

And while, yeah, it should have made me happy – I mean, they were actually treating me like a human being – it just pissed me off. It just felt so patronising, so forced... To be honest, after my little outbursts, I wouldn't be surprised if Derek had ordered them to be nicer to me...

Speaking of, I still hadn't spoken to Derek. I was still avoiding him... Even when it got to Monday, June 18th 2012 – which was today.

It was strange how I actually _missed_ them being assholes to me...

"Hi, Batman." Erica grinned, walking into the living room where I was sat.

_Here we go again..._

"Hey." I muttered, continuing to doodle on a piece of paper I had found lying around.

"That looks good, who you drawing?" she asked, throwing herself down next to me. "Should I blush?"

I just stayed silent, continuing to move the pencil in light strokes.

Before she could say anything else, Lydia and Jackson walked in with Boyd, all three greeting me and paying me some kind of compliment, which was when Danny, Isaac, Scott, Allison and Derek walked in doing the same thing.

As they all continued, the pencil strokes became harder and harder until the pencil snapped. It was only as that sound was made that everyone shut up and there was silence for a moment.

That was, until Jackson spoke...

"Aw, that sucks man..." he sighed. "Here, there's a sharpener right here."

It was the smile that did it. That fake, plastic, forced smile that let out that same thing as on Thursday when Jackson was in the room I was sleeping in.

"Will you all just _stop_?!" I shouted, all of them becoming still, the only movement coming from me and the wolves flinching slightly at the loudness of my voice. "I don't need your sympathy. I don't need you to pretend to like me!"

Standing up, I picked up the piece of paper I was using, heading out of the living room.

"I'm no different than I was _before_ you found out about all of this _shit_ , so just _stop_ being so fake! God, I never thought I'd miss Jackson being an asshole, but I do!" I yelled. "I swear, if you keep treating me like you are now, I will kick your little werewolf asses! Understood?!"

I didn't even wait for their reply before I spun round on my heels and stalked off towards the front door.

Hopefully, they would leave me alone.

I think I _needed_ that.


	13. Gogmagog

**Chapter 12**

** Stiles **

The next day – Tuesday 19th – I woke up a little later than usual, but still a lot earlier than everyone else. Anyone else would think it was too early, but to me it was just another day.

I had just emerged from the bathroom attached to the bedroom when there was a small, quiet knock on the door and soft whispering from the other side – _ok, so the house wasn't soundproof..._

No one was ever up at the same time as me because, you know, people were normal and slept in during the holidays – so you could understand my weariness. However, it could only be someone in the house. Right? I mean, it was obviously female voices I was hearing, so it was, out of: Talia, Grace, Laura, Janice, Jessie or Luna.

Opening the door was the only way I was going to figure out who it was... As much as I hated to admit it, I was going to have to let them in.

So I did.

I could honestly say that I wasn't expecting Jessie and Luna to be the two outside of the room. The two girls were still in their pyjamas – Luna in a kangaroo onesie, Jessie in a lion onesie – both of them standing there innocently, looking up at me with small smiles.

Relaxing slightly, I crouched down in front of the seven and four year old, holding onto the door for balance, thankful that I had taken my Adderall already.

Luna and Jessie were the only two in the house that I was comfortable with. I mean, they were little kids that hadn't been turned against humans. It was always the older supernatural beings that I was wary of.

"And what can I do for you, little ladies?" I whispered, smiling slightly.

The two had their hands clasped behind their backs, heads tilted to the right and twisting their bodies' right to left as they looked at me.

"Can't sleep." Luna murmured.

"It's too early to wake anyone else up, but you _always_ seem to be up _really_ early." Jessie muttered. "We want to play downstairs and we want you to play too."

* * *

Next thing I know, I'm in the living room with a seven and four years old who were content with using my as a living, breathing doodle pad. Of course, I _was_ the one that said they could and was letting them do this.

I had made sure that the ink was safe to go on skin and would come off before I let the girls draw all over me, and by now I had so many ' _tattoos_ ', as they called them, it was unreal. Little Luna kept drawing one in particular, saying that she was going to make it look just like Derek's... Of course, she said ' _Rick_ ' not Derek.

I had a range of colours covering my arms, face, neck, hands – pretty much any part of me that wasn't covered by my pyjamas. I didn't have the heart to tell them to stop.

It wasn't long before I heard someone walking down the stairs. I would have thought the girls would have heard too, but they seemed far too busy with giving me all these different ' _tattoos_ ' that they weren't paying attention to anything else.

"They make you look prettier." Luna grinned. "Rick like them, they make you Pack, Rick likes Pack."

I froze slightly, turning my head to look at the four year old. She looked so... _sure_ of herself. I hated that I had to correct her...

"Luna... I'm not..." I started.

"Yes you are, Ricky said you are." Jessie interrupted. "Even mommy, daddy, Auntie Talia and Uncle Oliver say you are. They don't lie."

"But I'm..."

"Even though you're part of Ricky's and not ours, you're still Pack to us... Does that make sense?"

"Of course it does, My Dove." Peter's voice chuckled from the doorway. "Mr Stilinski, I must say I find it amusing how you go... _suckered_ into being a human canvas."

Sighing slightly, I looked down at my arms, which were still being covered in a mass amount of ink.

I would have back chatted, like I used to with Derek... But, considering recent changes, I just had to hold my tongue. And that was _a lot_ harder than you could imagine when you had ADHD.

"I couldn't say no." I shrugged, staring at the floor.

Surprisingly, Peter didn't actually reply to that, he just walked into the room and sat in one of the recliners near me and the girls, running his hands over the heads of his daughters as he walked by.

* * *

It was after a couple of hours that the rest of the Hale family started to appear – Cora and Janice being the last ones before Derek – all of them commenting on the fact that the youngest members of their family were drawing on me.

I told them what I told Peter – I couldn't say no.

By now, there was barely any skin showing that was left untouched by the pens the girls were using. My face was the only place that was partially uncovered, the girls deciding to stick mainly to my arms and hands, though my cheeks, forehead and neck were ' _decorated_ '.

Derek was still upstairs at this point... It seemed that as I had been avoiding him, he had gone out of his way to avoid me... I could definitely see him taking me back to the Agency. I mean, who would ever want to keep me?

No one. That's who. No one wanted someone as worthless as me. So it wasn't like it would be a surprise.

"Girls, that's enough drawing on Stiles, now." Grace smiled, walking over to the three of us.

Even though the woman seemed nice enough, as soon as Jessie and Luna took their pens off me to look up at their mom, I moved back slightly, until my back hit the side of the couch. I would say it was a subconscious movement, but it wasn't... I had fully intended to move away, but I didn't want to feel like I had to.

"But mommy!" they whined.

"No." Grace laughed. "It's time for lunch now, anyway."

That was all she had to say for the girls to forget about their ' _art project_ ' and run off towards the kitchen. Grace hadn't moved though, she was just looking at me, eyebrow raised, waiting.

"I-I'm not hungry, th-thank you." I stuttered, staring at the floor.

"Are you sure, sweetie? There's plenty for everyone." Grace asked, softly.

"P-Positive, thank you."

She left after a few minutes of trying and failing to come up with something else to say, leaving me alone in the living room.

It was then that I heard footsteps on the stairs – Derek, obviously, since they were coming down, not going up. The footsteps faltered, however, not making it all the way into the kitchen. Frowning, I glanced up, seeing Derek looking in through the doorway, his head cocked to the side with a... _strange_ expression on his face.

I turned away seconds after I spotted him, going back to staring at the floor.

I swear I heard a soft, sad sigh before footsteps started again.

* * *

It was after they had eaten that Cora and Janice cornered me. Not literally, but...well, you know what I mean. The two had come back into the living room, both sitting on the couch closest and on the opposite side to me, both with friendly smiles on their faces.

At the Agency, that never went well for me.

"So, you're a genius, right?" Janice asked, quietly, careful not to speak too loud.

"I-I don't believe that intelligence can be a-accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of a hundred and seventy, a-an eidetic memory and can read twenty thousand words p-per minute." I stuttered.

All that got me was a weird look from both Cora and Janice. Scott did the same thing when I told him...

"Yes, I'm a genius." I sighed.

Now, I guessing that sounded familiar to some of you? Well, Criminal Minds fans, that's because with a little tweak, you would have what the great Matthew Gray Gubler said in the first episode of season one – _Extreme Aggressor_ – as Dr Spencer Reid, profiler for the FBI.

Scott and I started watching it when we were younger and, after I figured out that had these same talents as one of my all time favourite character; I decided that quote would be the one I used whenever someone asked. Besides, sometimes it made people leave me alone.

This time it just made them intrigued.

"That is so cool." Cora muttered to herself.

"Are you sure you're fully human?" Janice joked.

As the two girls grinned, I just sat there, wishing for anything to get me out of this situation... But why would I have any luck?

"Anyway... We were wondering if you could help us." Janice said, slowly.

"We were giving this assignment to do for the first day back for photography..." Cora explained. "No one we've asked so far will be in the pictures, Jessie and Luna are too young, and we can't be in them ourselves."

"So, would you be in out photos?"

I knew firsthand what would happen to me if I said no to someone at the Agency. I would be lucky if I got a sprain, but there was a time I was _almost_ in a coma, I was out for so long. It was probably stupid to think they would do that to me _here_... But old habits die hard.

* * *

We spent most of the afternoon outside, with the girls taking photos of me in different places, doing different things, in different poses. We would have been outside earlier, but I had to wash off the ' _tattoos_ ' I was given – after photos had been taken of them of course – and getting dressed.

It was... _awkward_ , to say the least.

I didn't know how to act, or what to say... I just went along with what they told me to do, still flinching away if they tried to touch me.

It was as the sun was setting that we got to the more _interesting_ photos.

So far, they had all been in a way that you could see who I actually was. Now, as the sun was setting, they were being set so I was just a dark figure. No one would be able to tell who I was, all they would be able to see would be colours and a dark shape of a person.

They both had me standing off to the side the shot, in this field they had taken me to, making it look as if I was walking towards the trees that boarded the clearing.

They both had me sitting on a rock by the bank of the river, my head down, looking into the water.

They had me do so much and I just didn't say a word, unless they asked me a question.

Cora and Janice were nice, there was no doubting that. Janice reminded me a lot of her sisters, so I took comfort in the fact that she probably helped shape the two of them into being such sweet little girls.

But trust was difficult for me. I didn't trust so easily, which meant it hurt more if someone broke my trust – just like Derek did. So I couldn't just trust these two or their family just like that. People had to earn it from me.

Scott obviously didn't need to, I knew him from day one. Allison, even though I had only known for a year, had and still was earning my trust faster than most probably ever would... The Hale family was a work in progress, Derek's Pack would be a painful time...and Derek just had to work to earn my trust again.

But that wouldn't happen until I knew they weren't like the others – weren't like the ones from the Agency.

And that would take a long while.

"Stiles, you are an _angel_!" Cora grinned.

"A definite life saver!" Janice giggled.

"You're the best."

"So glad you're one of us now."

But I wasn't one of them, was I?

* * *

Wednesday, June 20th, I was sitting in the living room, on one of the recliners, with the laptop I had been bought in front of me. I thought I should use it, get a head start of fictional, first person narratives for the creative writing class I was taking.

Everything was calm, peaceful since Derek and his family weren't in the house – they had gone to train in the woods and Derek went to meet his Pack. I was alone in the house.

Well, that's what I thought until the door burst open, causing my heart to jump into my throat and race like crazy. It was only when I saw Scott and Allison that I started to breathe again.

I watched the nine of them, confused – all of them seemed...panicked, whilst a few looked a little weaker than usual.

"I-Is everything alright?" I asked, slowly.

"Does it _look_ like everything's alright?" Jackson snapped. "Idiot."

Scott stepped in the blonde's direction, eyes hard and jaw set. But, before he could do anything, Derek growled threateningly at the jock, causing him to bow his head, becoming more docile – now there was a word I never thought I'd use or Jackson.

"Surprise attack. We don't know what it was." Scott told me. "They came out of nowhere."

I guess, after that, they kind of forgot I was there. Of course, that didn't stop me from hearing everything they were saying.

Apparently the things that attacked them were, basically, distorted human-like bodies. They were twice the size of an actual human with bulging muscles, carrying clubs, axes and maces. They were strong, ugly and seemed to rely on strength to win, wearing animal skins with the heads and claws still attached.

"Gogmagogs." I told them, staring at what I had been previously writing on the laptop. "Th-They're called Gogmagogs."

"How the hell do you know that?" Boyd demanded, disbelieving.

"Th-They're the only things that are d-described like that and you all j-just described them exactly how I remember th-them."

They all just stared at me, as if I had just grown another head. Although, I guess that was allowed, considering I _had_ just confessed to knowing what these creatures were and that I had seen them before...

But it was true, and the wolves knew I wasn't lying.

"How do we kill them?" Allison asked, slowly.

Well, this was going to be fun...


	14. Soccer

**Chapter 13**

** Stiles **

"You said we described them exactly how you remembered them." Danny said, looking to where I sat on one of the recliners. "When have you seen them before?"

Just like that, all of them started to turn towards me, all with the same confused and intrigued expressions on their faces. After I had explained all I knew about the Gogmagogs to them, they had gone back to not knowing I was there. I was perfectly alright with that; I continued with my work.

Of course, I knew that _someone_ was going to bring it up at some point.

"I-I was...three, I think." I whispered. "I-I don't remember it much. Only th-that they were trying to get m-me."

"Why the hell did they want _you_?" Jackson scoffed.

I just shrugged, staring down at the keyboard of the laptop. To be honest, I didn't know whether it was I just didn't remember much, or if I didn't _want_ to remember... It wouldn't surprise me. I mean, it was amazing how much someone could forget just by simply wanting to forget it.

People could suppress _a lot_.

What I did remember, though, was how they looked. I remember being terrified because they were just so _big_. And, come on, when you're three it's even more terrifying.

As I thought about it more, snippets of what happened kept coming up in my mind, every feeling I felt back then hitting me like a tidal wave now. Each snippet only lasted a few seconds, the sound muffled, the screams louder... But it was still enough to get my heart beating faster, to make my breathing shallower, to make my whole body shake, to make my skin start to itch like it was on fire.

I adjusted my glasses as they slipped down the bridge of my nose as I started to shudder slightly. I tended to do that sometimes when I panicked... It was the first time, in this house, that the panic had gotten so bad that I started shaking. It never really happened anywhere other than the Agency.

Scott knew that.

He knew the shaking never happened. So he knew, immediately.

A hand gently touched my on the shoulder, causing me to volt out of the recliner. I didn't think, I just ran. At the Agency, depending on the age, I could out run whoever it was that wanted to beat on me. _Sometimes_. I used to try all the time, until I realised how stupid it was.

I don't know _why_ I decided that today would be a good day to try again, though.

I hadn't realised I had ran outside until I felt the cool summer breeze in my hair as I ran... I also didn't realise someone was outside until I ran _into_ them. For a brief, dazzling moment I thought I could get away from them – whoever it was – too... That was until they grabbed me by the arm, dragging me up to my feet.

I struggled.

Tried to loosen the grip on my arm, tried to run.

I was screaming. Shouting words that weren't reaching my own ears.

All I could hear was my own heart beat in my ears...

All too suddenly, there were hands on my shoulders and sharp tugs on my arm. There were too many hands, too many voices, too many shapes...

Then there was nothing.

* * *

**Derek**

If I had to explain what happened with Stiles, I didn't think it would have been possible. One minute, Stiles was sitting in the recliner, quiet...the next he was running out of the door.

Boyd had caught his laptop before he hit the floor, placing it on the coffee table... None of us moved after that until we heard Stiles screaming. When we got out there, we found Peter holding onto his arm, helping him up... Mom, dad and Grace all tried to help, trying to stop him from hurting himself, but that just made it worse...

Then he passed out.

I couldn't explain why it happened or what had made him so agitated... All he had done was told us how he knew about the Gogmagogs.

We told my mom as much when she asked.

Scott's expression let me in on the fact that what had happened today hadn't happened before. The sheer panic and shock, the confusion and not knowing what to... Scott was just as unsure as the rest of us.

Stiles had only blacked out for a few minutes, jumping up and running to his room after he came to... That was where he had been for, about, an hour now.

"Did you ever think that, maybe, it was an _unpleasant_ memory?" Peter sighed, leaning in the doorway.

After everything Stiles had been through, that should have been my first thought. It should have been the simplest thing and I completely over look it. I wasn't doing my best to at keeping my promise; I just seemed to keep hurting him.

"What, worse than the Agency?" Jackson muttered.

"Didn't you hear him?" Scott growled. "He saw the Gogmagogs when he was three... He didn't go to the Agency until he was seven."

"So? How's that my problem?"

"BECAUSE HE'S _PACK_!" I yelled.

That made everyone stop, even my mom. Thankfully, Jessie and Luna weren't in the living room with us, instead being upstairs and playing.

I couldn't tell whether or not I was more upset with what Jackson had said, or with myself... To be honest, it could be both.

Slowly, Laura reached out until she had her hand on my shoulder, continuing to move until her arm was around me. Even though I had my own Pack, I was still part of my family; I was still connected to them... The contact helped.

Cora gravitated to my other side, tucking herself under my arm, wrapping her arms around my torso, leaning her head on my shoulder. My sisters were always the first to tease me about one thing or another, but were also the first to try and calm me down or cheer me up.

A slight noise – so tiny I couldn't actually identify it – came from the top level of the house – Stiles. I made to go towards the stairs, to talk to him... I didn't expect to be stopped by my mom.

I frowned slightly; she only interfered in my Pack if I asked her for help... But there was something in her eyes, something that made me feel as if she _knew_. I didn't know what it was she knew, but she knew... _something_.

I nodded once, letting my shoulders slump, watching as she walked towards the stairs. I just hopped that, whatever she was going to do, worked.

* * *

**Stiles**

After what had happened, I couldn't be downstairs with them all. Not only was it embarrassing, it was terrifying. Sighing, I leant back against the headboard, taking Wolfy out from under the pillows and the picture of me with my mom and dad from the box beside the bed.

Drawing my knees up to my chest and lifting the hood up on my dad's red hoodie – I put it on the moment I got in the room –, I placed Wolfy between my legs and chest, and used my knees to prop up my hands whilst I looked at the picture.

The picture was taken a month before mom went into the hospital, on my parents' wedding anniversary. That had this tradition where they went to Paphos, Cyprus, which was where they went on their honeymoon... After I was born, they took me with them every year, staying at the same hotel. We were on the beach, the sunset in the background. Mom and dad were sitting on the sand, smiling at the camera, whilst I stood behind them with my arms around their necks, their arms around my back...

A strange noise came from my throat as tears started to trail down my cheeks. Anytime I looked at the photo, this was how I would react – every time, without fail. Eight years and my reaction was still the same.

I wiped them away with the heel of my hand, internally cursing myself for letting it happen... It was my fault they were dead. It was my fault this had all happened. It was my fault that people acted towards me the way they did.

It was just all my fault.

"My fault." I muttered to myself.

The knock at the door scared me to death, causing me to quickly hide the photo back in the box, push the hood down, wipe the rest of my tears away and call a feeble hello.

Since the house wasn't soundproof, I knew they'd be able to hear me... Werewolf hearing had its advantages.

I didn't expect Talia to walk in, I had to admit.

Derek, Scott, Jessie or Luna I would have expected, but not Talia.

I sat up a little straighter, staring down at Wolfy in my lap.

"May I?" she asked, pointing towards my desk chair – I glanced just to be sure.

"Yes, ma'am." I whispered.

"Call me Talia, Stiles. You always used to."

I nodded slightly, glancing at her as she crossed my room to sit on the chair.

"I'm guessing things you'd rather stay buried were brought up again?" Talia started. "That's why you panicked."

"Yes." I mumbled.

"We will look after you, Stiles. Not just Derek, but _all_ of us."

"I still don't understand why."

"You will one day."

Actually looking at the female Alpha wolf, I could see a kind smile on her face. I couldn't remember how I knew Talia but she was just so... _familiar_.

There was a silence then and I refused to be the one to break it... God knows what would happen if I did. But I didn't have to wait long until Talia spoke again.

"Come on, we're all going to the Park." Talia smiled. "It'll give us all a chance to get to know you better."

I had, pretty much, no say in whether I went or not... I mean, I didn't want to be hit.

* * *

Derek had tried to protest, saying that we – meaning him, his Pack and, unfortunately, me – had to research the Gogmagogs... Talia on the other hand was having none of it. I heard the almost-argument from where I was standing in the hallway, by the front door. Talia kept calm; explain how it would only make the situation worse if we launched into research mode for them at that precise moment in time and that we could start tomorrow...

Derek had no chance going up again his mother.

That was how we all ended up at a nearby Pack a few minutes later. Well, I say it's a park; it was a massive field with a swing set, a slide and a roundabout. But it _was_ the closest thing to a park in Beacon Hills.

Jessie and Luna were in their element as soon as we arrived, the two running towards the play area and throwing themselves onto anything they could... It was entertaining and cute all at the same time. The rest of us walked slowly towards them, everyone talking and laughing whilst I kept silent at the back of the group, head down and arms around my torso.

No one really took any notice, which didn't surprise me, to be honest. I always, somehow, managed to just fade into the background when in a big group, becoming invisible. So I just followed as the group made their way to the edge of the play area, sitting in a massive clump to one edge where Jessie and Luna could still be seen.

I didn't really know where to go or what to do, so I was... _kind of_ thankful when Scott pulled me down so I fell across his and Allison's lap. The thing was, they were both rather comfortable... I already knew this due to the number of times I had fallen asleep across them both during movie night at Scott's. So you can't really blame me when I just arranged myself slightly, so I wasn't lying at such an odd angle.

"You're strange." Scott laughed.

"If you didn't want me lying on you, you shouldn't have pulled me down." I shrugged, closing my eyes. "I could just go to sleep."

"If you do, I'll tickle you."

My eyes snapped open.

"I will bite you." I grumbled.

"Love you too, buddy." Scott grinned.

Allison giggled, used to mine and Scott's interactions with each other, already knowing about our close relationship. I suppose, now she knew _everything_ , she understood a bit more why we were so close. But then, Scott was pretty much my brother, we had to be close.

"How long have you two known each other?" Janice asked.

It was obvious she was asking Scott and me, so I didn't have to look over at her to check. Of course, me being me, I wasn't going to answer. Instead, I bit my lip and looked away from everyone, leaving Scott to answer the question himself... It was easier if he was the one to speak.

"Forever." Scott shrugged. "As soon as Stiles was born we were friends."

"So you're older?" Cora asked.

"Yeah, by just under a year."

Sighing, I turned my head slightly to look at Scott.

"Ten months, eight days and twenty five minutes, actually." I corrected. "God, you think that with all the time you've spent with me you would have learnt something. But no."

"Shut up before I throw you in the mud." Scott scowled.

"You love me and you wouldn't do such a thing."

"We'll see about that."

It didn't take long after that for Jessie and Luna to drag me up to play with them. And, I mean, _literally_ dragged me – they may only be kids, but I didn't weigh a lot and they were werewolves. I mean, I weighed 130lbs.

Yeah, you read that right. And, yes, a guy was considered anorexic if he weighed 136lbs or less. But, hey, considering my circumstances at the Agency, I think I can be let off for my less than ideal body weight.

Anyway, that's not the point.

So, somehow I seemed to have ended up as Jessie and Luna's favourite person. As soon as I mentioned them playing with one of the others, I suddenly became something to cling to, as if I would disappear if they didn't hold onto me, the pair of them refusing to let go until I told them I would continue to play... It was strange, to say the least.

To be honest, it was actually kind of fun.

* * *

Me playing with Jessie and Luna was how Talia – it was obvious it was Talia's doing, since she planned the outing – got Derek to start a game of soccer. It was only Derek, his Pack and me that played, Talia and her Pack keeping an eye out for any cheating.

On one team, there was: Jackson, Danny, Erica, Boyd and Allison – I guess, with there being an even amount of humans as well as werewolves, it made splitting the teams a little easier. So, obviously, on the other team there was: Scott, Derek, Isaac, Lydia and me. Thankfully, I didn't have to go through the embarrassment of asking how to play the game like I had to do when I was six, but Talia still insisted on explaining the rules to _everyone_ – I guess there was _a lot_ of cheating...

"And _no_ wolf powers. It's not fair to us humans." Allison smiled.

"You know it's not something we can just... _turn off_." Boyd replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Try, then." Lydia sighed, folding her arms. "Now, who's going where?"

At first, my team had no idea where to put me.

They decided in goal, but then I suppose they figure flying objects would bring up bad memories, so that's where they placed Isaac – Danny was in goal for the others.

But then my team were wondering if it was a bad idea to actually put me _in_ the game, when I could be badly hurt.

In the end, I just got so tired of the indecisive nature that I took the ball from next to Talia and started playing.

It took, about, two point five seconds for what I did to register in the other team's minds, all of them jumping into action, whilst my actions took my own team by surprise.

It would have been funny if I had time to stop and laugh about it.

* * *

Now, the thing with me is: I'm _far_ better at playing soccer than lacrosse.

Jackson was the other way round, which was why he fell on his face – repeatedly – when he tried to tackle me. Besides, I was pretty good at fake outs.

Right near the end of the game, it was twelve all... We had been playing for at least an hour, maximum of two, and our teams seemed to be evenly matched. It was quite strange, to be honest... I mean, this was the first time, that I could think of, where I wasn't worried about being hurt, or wanting to avoid all of them – apart from Scott and Allison.

This was the first time.

" _PASS TO STILES! PASS TO STILES!"_ was all I heard Derek and Isaac shouting across the field to Scott and/or Lydia – depending on who had the ball.

The ball came from my right and I slid right past Boyd, dodged Erica, ran straight past Allison and faked right with Jackson. I didn't realise Jackson had fallen flat on his face, _yet again_ , until after I had scored and Talia had called out that it was the end of the game.

Now, yes, Jackson had fallen quite a lot during the game. But it was something about this time that just made me laugh. And by laugh, I mean fall on the ground and hugging my stomach because I was laughing so much it _hurt_.

It was only as I could start to breathe again that I noticed the wide smiles on everyone's faces, and it took me a while to think of why. I mean, this was the first time I felt truly relaxed around any of them, that I had started laughing or smiling around all of them – not just Scott an Allison.

As I calmed down, I didn't think it would be Jackson to walk over to me and give me a hand up. He was actually being nice for the sake of being nice. No fake-ness, not because he had to be, not because he felt sorry for me. He was doing it, just because.

That was something I thought I'd never see.

"Good game, Stilinski." Jackson nodded when I was standing again.

"You too, Whittemore." I replied.


	15. Not Done

**Chapter 14**

** Stiles **

The next day, Thursday, June 21st 2012, I found myself being dragged – not literally – out of the house, at lunch, to go to the diner, because Derek decided there was going to be some ' _quality Pack time_ '. I didn't understand why this included me. I mean, sure, a few of the Hales have mentioned I was a part of Derek's Pack, I even heard Derek yell it the day before... But I wasn't _really_ , was I?

But then Derek said something I wasn't used to hearing – _please_. I couldn't say no after the word left his mouth.

The diner had been in Beacon Hills for a long time, but had renamed and renovated only three years ago. The diner was now called ' _Johnny's_ ' and looked like it had come straight out of Grease...even so, it was an _amazing_ place with great food!

The last time all of us had been at the diner was two days before Derek got me out of the Agency. Before, the diner had good connotations. A place where I could go to hang out with my best buddy. Now, it was a bit bitter-sweet.

Getting out of Derek's car – I had to endure the ride with the Alpha, Erica and Boyd – I pulled the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands, bunching the fabric up and gripping it, hugging my torso as I stood at the side of the car.

Allison's, Jackson's and Danny's cars all pulled up next to Derek's Camaro, the six other members of the Alpha's Pack slipping out of them and joining the rest of us. Scott was immediately next to me, flinging his arm around my neck, his other hand in Allison's. It only let me relax the tiniest bit, but I wasn't as tense as before.

We took the same table as always, but this time it was Derek that sat on the chair at the end, whilst I slipped onto the end of the bench, next to Scott. I didn't actually talk or look at anyone, choosing to just stare at the table, still keeping a tight hold on my sleeves, my arms still wrapped around myself.

I just wanted done with this already.

The others launched right into conversation – but they would. They were comfortable with each other, even if some of them didn't even like each other... Sighing quietly to myself, I hunched down in the booth, hoping that it would finish sooner rather than later.

"Hi, what can I get for y'all?" a soft voice with a southern twang asked.

And I would recognise that voice anywhere, my head snapping up when I heard it.

"Olive!" I grinned, slipping out of the booth. "I didn't know you were working today."

"Well, I'll be." Olivia Bishop – aka Olive – giggle, hugging me once I was standing. "Nice to see you, Stiles; haven't seen you in a while."

Olivia Crystal Bishop was eighteen years old, but we got along great. My dad and our mom knew each other – back when he was alive – so we knew each other well. If it wasn't for my dad, Olivia's mom and dad would never have met actually... Her parents had moved New Orleans just after they had gotten married, and they had only moved back a few years ago – dad had kept in contact with them, that's how I knew them. Olivia's dad died a few months after they moved back to Beacon Hills... He died of lung cancer...

Olivia had long, dark chocolate brown hair and bright green eyes. Even though she had a tan from the sun, you could still make out the freckles peppered around the nose; her lips thin. Usually, she wore slacks or dungarees, pretty much any masculine clothing that she liked... Of course, with her job at the diner, she had to wear this 1950s style waitress dress – dark blue on the top, light blue for the skirt, a white waist apron and white trim around the collar and sleeves...plus, white socks and black and white converse shoes. She was a very sweet person, easy to like – kind of like Danny. Most people loved her, but she knew if someone was fucking with her and, well, let's say that I had heard of some of the things she's done to people and that I hoped I never saw that side of her.

"I know! How's your mom doing?" I asked, pulling back from the hug but keeping my hand on her arm.

"Momma's doing fine now, getting better with time." Olivia smiled. "She sends her love and thanks for the cookies."

"Bless her; I love your mom."

"And we love you. Now, as much as I love talking to you, Hon, I should take orders before I get fired."

Instead of sitting down again, I stood next to Olivia as she went around the table, jotting down what everyone was having. Of course, as soon as she got to me, she smiled and wrote down exactly what I was going to order – she knew me all too well.

"I'll be back with your drinks in a few." Olivia told us, sweetly, hugging me again and kissing my cheek before walking towards the counter.

It was safe to say that I didn't expect the staring when I sat back down. I mean, was it that strange, me greeting a friend? Then again, I suppose none of them actually knew Olivia...

Looking over at Derek, I noticed his eyes had narrowed, fists clenched slightly. Obviously I had done something a bit not good...

Olivia came back five minutes after she took our orders with our drinks. Twenty minutes after that, it was the food.

Now that Olivia wasn't really around anymore, I couldn't help but be a little twitchy. I mean, Olivia was a familiar face, a comfort... Sure, Allison and Scott were too, but Olivia was different! Any time someone reached in the general direction I was sitting in, even if they weren't going to touch me or take something near me, I couldn't help but flinch slightly... I could see, out of the corner of my eye, that Scott wanted to help...he just didn't know how. Neither of us knew how to act in public when I was like this, especially with so many more people _knowing_... We had been good at pretending that nothing was happening!

"Who gave Stilinski sugar?" I heard Jackson sigh. "He doesn't need it; he's twitchy enough as it is."

Surprisingly, I could tell that Jackson wasn't saying that to be an asshole. Don't ask me how I knew, I just did. However, Derek and Scott did not know this, which was why Derek was about to bite the pup's head off – not literally.

I say ' _about_ ' because I interrupted at the right point.

"Better to be twitchy than an irritable dick." I grinned.

"Says the clumsy spaz." Jackson smirked.

"Oh, shut it you puppy."

"I will bit you."

"Your bark is worse than your bite."

Jackson didn't reply to that, his smirk just getting a little wider, ignoring the bemused gazes of everyone at the table. I leaned back into the booth slightly, lifting my head up a little. Even if I wasn't totally comfortable yet, the diner seemed to be a place where I could relax and little and...be a little like my old self.

"Good to have you back, Stilinski." Jackson muttered, turning back to his food.

"You too, Whittemore." I nodded, having slight déjà vu from the day before.

* * *

Everyone had, pretty much, finished the food and now we were just abusing the free refills. I still wasn't talking much, only inputting if I was asked a direct question or it was answering something Scott or Allison had just said.

It was kind of nice – or as nice as it could be – until the door to the diner opened.

I didn't know why I looked over; it was just something that happened. But I wish I hadn't. The guy that had walked in was seventeen, almost eighteen – light brown hair, grey eyes, a slight beard and...well, there was just something creepy about him. I didn't understand why I thought that, until he fully turned, making eye contact with me and smirking.

Owen Palmer was from the Agency – one of Octavian's little thugs. Owen was a were-elephant – sounds funny, but it's _terrifying_! I mean, the dude grew _tusks_ when he shifted that he could use to, literally, rip someone apart! He had already threatened me with them.

As my heart rate increased, I slowly noticed that the conversation at the table had stopped, everyone turning to me instead.

"We have to go." I breathed, shakily as Owen moved towards the counter.

"What, why?" Danny frowned.

But I didn't answer.

I jumped up, fast walking towards the door, hearing their footsteps behind me. I didn't stop as I heard a couple of them calling my name, just thinking about getting out of there and to Derek's car.

I should have known that something like this would have happened.

I should have known that they would find me...

Oh, what was I saying?! I _did_ know! I told Scott and Derek why I hadn't run away from that place, and it was because I knew they would find me! They _always_ knew where to find me!

As soon as I got out of the diner, I was grabbed from behind and dragged to the side, thrown up and held against the wall. Owen was one of the stronger ones from the Agency, stronger than Octavian – he was usually the one to hold me down...

"Octavian's got a message for you." Owen grinned. "He ain't done with you."

"Like hell he's not!" I heard Derek growl, coming closer.

" _Don't_!" I squeaked.

Surprised, Derek stopped where he was, but didn't lose his stance. He didn't lose the _attack mode_ he was in.

"Yeah, call of your guard dog, you little bitch." Owen laughed. "You know, I bet I could drag you back and you'd still tell him – all of them – not to follow. Octavian would _love_ if I did that for him."

I didn't know what came over me then.

It was like I was someone else for a moment because, and I don't know why, I just leaned in close and smiled. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the others shiver slightly, confused as to what I was doing, but I just tried to ignore them, paying more attention to the dick in front of me.

"You know what? I've always wanted to do this." I whispered.

"Do wha–" Owen started, cut off by the punch to the face I gave him.

Owen stumbled back, letting me go in the process, clinging his nose. I didn't understand what he was saying due to his hands muffling what he was saying. However, since the werewolves to my right had suddenly tensed up, I could guess it wasn't all that good.

Owen, obviously, got mad. This was the first time I had fought back, the first time I had actually hurt him in some way. His tusks started to grow out of his face, either side of his nose, sharpening into a point, his eyes glowing neon green – that was the only part of the transformation he let happen.

The were-elephant launched himself at me but, somehow, I dodged the hit – just barely, his fist hitting the brickwork of the diner.

He kept throwing kicks and punches, but I was able to jump and duck out or the way. I didn't know how, though... I got close enough to land another punch on Owen, right in his stomach, but that just made him angrier.

That's when Derek intervened.

The Alpha wolf grabbed the younger supernatural, throwing him across the parking lot. Derek was in his face in seconds, grabbing Owen by the neck and pressing him up against a nearby car, growling something to him, eyes flashing red.

Owen left running, making sure not to turn back.

Even though I still didn't forgive Derek for revealing my biggest secret to a handful of the people I would rather have nothing to do with, this moment wasn't definitely a step towards it.

* * *

Back at the house, the first thing I did was go sit in one of the recliners once back downstairs and in the living room. I could feel everyone watching me, could feel their eyes on me. It was something I had gotten good at feeling ever since being at the Agency.

I glanced up quickly, only looking at Scott, Allison or Derek...

"You know, I've never had the balls to punch one of them before." I laughed, nervously, examining the knuckles of my right hand – bruised and slightly swollen.

But none of them said anything at that.

Blinking a little faster than normal, biting my lower lip, I went to speak again. Only someone beat me to it.

"Who's Octavian?" Scott demanded.

I outwardly flinched at the name, as if I had been hit... My eyes darted towards Derek, knowing that he knew exactly who Octavian was.

"It doesn't matter, Scott." I muttered.

"Yes it _does_!" Scott countered. "Stiles, who is he?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Too late!"

Standing up, I started to back myself up towards the door leading to the kitchen, wanting at least one escape route – just in case. But, of course, the majority of them saw it as me trying to escape – hence why Erica decided to block the doorway.

That wasn't the best idea.

My heart rate sped up for the second time that day, my breathing started to get a little faster. I looked around the room, seeing that the only way out now was the windows. But I would have to get them open, so I couldn't use them if I wanted to leave the room.

For the second time since I had been in the house, I started shaking slightly – just my hands, running them over my face, wincing as my right hand started to throb.

"Stop it." I whispered.

"Not until you tell me." Scott protested. "Stiles, let me help."

"Stop it."

"Tell me."

And then everybody started to talk.

" _Leave him alone."_

" _You won't get anything out of him."_

" _Does it matter?"_

" _Stiles, speak."_

" _Can somebody, please, get him to talk."_

" _Derek, do you know who he is?"_

" _Stiles, please."_

" _This is boring me."_

"ENOUGH!" Derek yelled.

I watched as they all looked towards their Alpha, only then noticing I wasn't in their line of sight anymore...

That was because I was hiding in the small square space that the couch and cabinet full of DVDs made with the wall. I covered my ears, trying to block everything out, trying to calm down before I went into a panic attack, clenching my eyes shut.

To be honest, I didn't want them to notice me. I didn't want them to see where I was. I mean, not only would it be embarrassing, but it would bring up even more questions – like: ' _how can you do that?_ ' I didn't want those questions!

But, obviously, I was found.

I was always found.

I only realised because, even with my eyes shut, I could tell it got a little darker. So, opening them and looking up a little, I saw Derek standing over me, hand extended to help me up. A little sheepishly, I hesitantly took hold of the offered appendage, allowing to older wolf to help me out of the tight space so I didn't hurt myself. As he did so, Derek took away the pain in my hand, making it easier to bare.

"No more questions." Derek said, a slight hint of an order in his voice. "I mean it."

No one said anything. But, as I caught Scott's eye, I could see the hurt of me not telling him. He didn't realise that I couldn't, didn't realise how hard it was for me to think it – let alone out loud. He didn't know that I hadn't told anyone about this...

Scott didn't know what it was like, what it felt like. He didn't know the intense fear, the paranoia. He didn't know that it kept me awake at night, or that I had nightmares about Octavian making good on what he had said...

 _Nobody_ knew. Because they hadn't been through it.

* * *

Once Derek had gotten his Pack in check, they decided that research on the Gogmagogs would be the best thing to do. There hadn't been any more incidents involving them yet, so that was something...

Instead of demanding answers this time or asking questions right out of the blue, Danny had asked if it was alright to ask me a few things. I had agreed and had warned him that I probably wouldn't be much help... But I said I would try.

"I don't remember how they were killed." I told them when asked – I had managed to avoid the question the day before.

"You've got to remember something." Lydia sighed.

"I was kept out of the confrontation... My family took care of it."

I pushed myself back into the cushions of the recliner, pulling my knees up to my chest and burying the lower half of my face into my folded arms.

"Family? Not just your parents?" Allison asked.

"I... I _think_ my uncles – my mom's brothers – were there too. I'm not sure what happened to them." I replied. "All I know is they came and they were gone when the Gogmagogs were gone. I wasn't told what happened."

I watched as the majority of them looked through book, all of them complaining quietly about dong research and not knowing what they were looking for.

"I know that the warrior Coineus threw one off a cliff in a duel and killed it..." I said, quietly. "Maybe we could do something like that?"

"Where is there a _cliff_ in Beacon Hills?" Isaac groused.

"The Lookout Point."

They stopped.

They turned.

They looked at me.

"I suppose it could be classified as a cliff and the drop would kill someone or, if they're lucky, seriously injure. Although it would be very likely that the victim would have server brain damage after that kind of fall, so it would be kinder to let them die – the hospital would make sure it would be done with as little pain as possible." I added. "However, say a werewolf fell off there, if it didn't kill them, it would definitely be a long recovery period, and very painful as well. Because of the level of pain they'd, most likely, have to be put into a drug induced coma... Of course, a werewolf can go insane with only their thoughts whilst in a coma – there's actually a report of a werewolf back in nineteen-fifty-three, in France, going on a rampage after being in a coma for five years. A hunter, I believe an Argent, actually, shot him with wolfsbane, right in the middle of his head. It was an interesting read, if I'm honest."

I expected the looks. The looks that made them wonder why I knew that. So, sighing, I shifted slightly to look at them all better.

"When you're living in a place where the people there would like to see you dead, you spend as much time avoiding it as possible." I shrugged. "Before I was living with Scott, I would go to the library and read articles from around the world, dating as far back as I could find."

"When did you read that one?" Danny asked, his interest peaked.

"Wednesday, December twenty forth, two-thousand-and-three. It was forty two point one degrees Fahrenheit and the wind speed was up to a maximum of thirty nine point one three miles per hour – I needed to wait for it to be a bit safer outside to walk and, if I was at the Agency at that point, I would have been thrown and locked outside for fun ."

For a moment, they all just looked at me – stunned, and I think a little sad? I guess the fact I said it so matter-of-fact and kind of shrugged it off didn't help much, either.

"How do you know that?" Erica asked, slowly.

"I have an IQ of a hundred and seventy, an eidetic memory and can read twenty thousand words per minute." I admitted, hearing Scott snort a little – like I said, he knew what I was, kind of, referencing.

"And IQ of a hundred and sixty plus is genius level." Lydia said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "If you're such a genius, why aren't you getting perfect grades?"

Clenching my jaw a little, I glared down at my knees.

"You try maintaining perfect grades whilst having ADHD, having your head bashed in every day and being terrorised by – what seems like – every single person on the planet!" I snapped, slightly. "It's not easy, but I try my best."

No one said more on the subject after that, all of them trying to figure out how exactly they could lure the Gogmagogs to the Lookout Point so they could be thrown off of it. It wasn't going to be easy, but it wasn't impossible either... Wouldn't have been easier if we knew what they wanted, but we didn't.

Sighing quietly to myself, I curled more into myself, not missing some of the looks I got from everyone. Right now I couldn't tell if it was because of what happened at the diner, or what happened with me hiding, or if it was because I snapped at Lydia. Hell, I didn't know if it was something completely different!

I hated not knowing.


	16. Run

**Chapter 15**

** Derek **

I knew I shouldn't have told them Stiles' secret, but I had to. A Pack had to trust each other and they would have asked far too many questions otherwise. I _thought_ I had been doing the right thing, but ' _the right thing_ ' had caused Stiles to retreat further into himself. Further away from me – someone he was supposed to trust.

I was still learning how to _be_ an Alpha... I should have realised that my mom made it look _a lot_ easier than it actually was. I knew I was doing a good thing when I only turned those who consented to and – the only word I could think of was – needed to be bitten. I respected Allison, Lydia and Danny's wishes to remain human, just like I respected the choice of the others to change. Of course, Scott didn't get that choice – though he chose to submit and become my Beta.

I was still learning. And I had fucked up.

Stiles didn't trust me. I had given away something he wanted to keep between himself and Scott, something that was his to tell... I only thought that it would be safer if the Pack knew – would be able to protect him.

I was an idiot.

Everyone had left a few hours after Stiles' idea of leading these _things_ to the Lookout Point – Scott had lingered, hoping to get his friend to tell him _something_ , but he left after he realised he wouldn't be told anything.

Stiles had escaped up to his room as fast as he could after that.

Throwing myself onto the couch, on my back, I flung my arm over my eyes and sighed deeply. I just couldn't seem to do anything without messing it up.

"You're doing well, Bunny." mom told me, quietly, as she walked into the living room, sitting on the arm of the couch. "It's hard when you're starting out – and you were never prepared for being an Alpha."

"It was a stupid mistake." I muttered.

"Just show him he can trust you – he'll come around eventually, Bunny."

 _I'm an idiot_.

* * *

** Stiles **

It was Saturday (June 23rd) evening, two days after the incident at the diner, that the plan to get rid of the Gogmagogs was put into action.

There had been a small debate as to whether or not I should be allowed to go with them – I could hear them from the room I had been put up in. I suppose, in the end, it was agreed that I shouldn't go with them, considering nobody came up to drag me along. To be honest, I didn't really want to go, anyway. The last time I had faced these things I was three years old. I was terrified – I still had nightmares! It wasn't something I wanted to relive anytime soon.

But that had been two hours ago and none of them had come back. Talia and the others had gone to look for them half an hour ago, but I hadn't heard from them since. I was alone in the house – Luna and Jessie was at a friend's house; I didn't know what had happened to anyone...

Any sound I heard made me jump.

I would think I saw something out of the corner of my eye, but it would only be something that belonged in the room.

I felt like I was slowly going crazy, sitting there along whilst I waited.

I was surprised with how sort a time it took for me to decide to go looking for them myself. It made me stop for a moment and question my sanity, but I had to remember that my best friend and his girlfriend – my only friends – were out there.

I had to know that they were alright.

Dragging on a pair of sneakers, pulling on a dark hoodie and grabbing a flashlight, I made my way out of the house, locking it up with the key Talia had given me the day before.

It was darker than I expected it to be, especially for the summer, and going further into the preserve wasn't going to help any. I tightened my grip on the flashlight, flicking it on and holding it as close to me as possible. Breathing deeply, I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other, heading towards the trees to the side of the house and remembering to _breathe_. That would help – breathing...

"I can do this." I whispered.

Now, walking through the preserve, in the dark, with only a flashlight...well, not exactly my best plan, I must say. Every twig that snapped, every animal that made a sound, every leaf that rustled in the slight summer breeze – all of made my heartbeat spike painfully in my chest.

I had never actually been out, in the dark, on my own since the night mom and dad died... I couldn't face it alone – the dark was one of the things I feared ever since that night. That was why, anytime I would sneak away to Scott's – or back into the Agency – I would always make sure that there was, at least, _some_ sunlight.

With every step I took, I could have sworn it was getting darker – impossible, I know, but your mind always came up with the impossible when you were _scared out of your mind_! Every step I took had me wishing that I had a bigger flashlight. Each step made me wish that I had just _called_ Scott or Allison.

But no, I just had to leave the house and go out into the pitch black hole of darkness! Who knew what could be lurking in the shadows!

Ok, so, _maybe_ I was overreacting just a little, but wasn't that expected? I mean, if people were scared of spiders, they'd freak out – even if it's the tiny little baby ones in some cases. Some people even had panic attacks when faced with their fears – not that that's an overreaction, it happens with me a lot actually, but I do tend to blow things _way_ out of proportion sometimes.

_Why did I have to be so scared?_

* * *

Looking back on it, I should have gone left, not right.

When you hear and see things from the right, you should stay as _far away as possible_ – not run towards it.

I was an idiot. A _fucking_ idiot!

You think any bozo would go left, but _no_ , not me!

So, I suppose I should fill you all in here, right? Ok, basically what happened was I got to a point in the preserve where I had to decide whether to go left or right. I saw something move to my right, heard these strange sounds too, whilst everything was quiet and peaceful from the left. Now, both sides would take me to the Lookout Point; I just had to decide which would be safe and, possibly faster. After hearing and seeing these things I _should_ have gone left, but my curiosity won over my fear and I had turned right without even thinking. I couldn't have been a minute before I was being charged at by – you guessed it – the Gogmagogs!

 _Somehow_ they managed to look far uglier and more terrifying than I remembered them, which, you know, freaked me out. So you can't really blame me for running like the Devil himself was trying to drag me down into the deepest, darkest and dankest parts of Hell.

I didn't know when, but at some point I had dropped the flashlight – I couldn't see a thing –so I was tripping every two to three minutes as I scrambled away from the – oh, come on there's no other words for them – monsters coming after me.

I could hear trees crashing to the ground as they clomped after me, the vicious grunts echoing slightly in the clearer parts of the preserve as they swung their weapons of choice. It was in that moment that I _wished_ I was old enough to have a gun licence – I had to be _eighteen_ , blows right?! I mean, if I had a gun I would be able to defend myself right now!

I didn't know how long I had been running, I didn't know how many times I had fallen over, I didn't know exactly where I was, and I didn't know how much longer I could keep running. My legs were starting to ache, my chest was starting to constrict, and there was this strange pain in my throat from where I was panting so hard instead of breathing...

_God, this is a really bad way to die!_

But I kept running. I ran as fast as I could, just like I did on my last night with dad – only he wasn't here to pick me up when I fell. He wasn't here to tell me to keep running. _He wasn't here._

Neither of them was.

But still I ran.

I ran because that's what they would have wanted me to do. They would have wanted me to keep going, to not give up. They would have cheered me on, shouted encouragement, just like they did when I was learning how to ride my bike without training wheels. Or when I decided to try rollerblading. Or ice-skating. Or anything else I had tried before that night.

I ran because they would have wanted me to.

I just kept running.

* * *

I had no idea where I was now.

Everything I passed looked like a direct copy of each other, so there was no way to tell whether or not I was going round in circles. For all I knew, I could have been running in a _square_!

But I didn't stop.

I wouldn't stop.

I _couldn't_ stop.

I think that was what, eventually, led me to being grabbed.

Before I had a chance to scream, I was thrown across the woods, skidding across the floor. A tree or a rock didn't stop me; I just generally skidded to a halt, debris and small rocks gathering behind me and sticking to my clothes, the dirt mixing with blood as my skin broke open.

Slowly lifting my throbbing head off of the ground, I looked up into the eyes of the thing that had terrified me since I was a tiny little kid.

I seized up.

I couldn't move.

Frozen.

The panic was overwhelming, _paralyzing_.

I couldn't breathe.

All I could do was stare.

As I lay there, it watched me. It didn't do anything but watch me. Just looking; waiting.

Then it charged at me.

My eyes widened – that's all I could do, move my eyes. My heart rate accelerated, my breathing became erratic...and I couldn't move. I couldn't move, so I just watched as this _thing_ ran at me with the intent to _kill me_.

_Fuck my life..._

As it closed in, I clenched my eyes shut, balling my hands into fists in the dirt. My throat started to close up, my head was spinning even more...

I was going to die.

This was it.

The end of my life.

The end of my story.


	17. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG DX

**Chapter 16**

** Stiles **

Ok, so maybe it _wasn't_ the end of my story. Would have been a rather shitty way to go, let me tell you!

At first, I had no idea what had happened - I could barely see now the flashlight was no longer in my hand. It was too dark and my heart was beating so loudly in my ears that I could hardly hear anything else. That is, until, a monstrous roar came from not too far away from my head, the sound echoing ever so slightly.

Even though my head hurt and my back ached, I scrambled towards the beam of light not too far away, my hands shaking as I tried to find the handle of the flashlight. Once the object was in my hands, I shifted it around the Preserve, trying to find what had made such a terrible noise.

Not too far away, I found a wolfed out Derek snarling and circling the Gogmagog that had chased after me. His claws were extended and dripping, his shirt torn and darkened with blood. A low frequency growl emitted from the Alpha wolf's direction as he slowly started to get closer to the Gogmagog - of course, the creature didn't seem too fond of this.

The Gogmagog didn't get a chance to take a swing at Derek when another group of wolves jumped at it from behind, catapulting the creature forward, sending it stumbling forwards as Derek jumped out of the way. Enraged, the beast charged forward with a wordless battle cry, nearing the werewolves with the speed of a rabid dog and swinging it's weapon with deadly force. Even the wolves' combined strength couldn't stop the angered creature.

Before I knew exactly what I was doing, I grabbed the largest rock I could find and threw it as hard as possible at the giant beast. The rock hit the creature's head, the hard object connecting with its skull with a dull thud.

"Hey, ugly!" I yelled, waving the flashlight slightly, starting to jog backwards. "Come and get me!"

As soon as I knew I had its attention, I ran further towards the edge of the Preserve, further towards the edge. I just had to get it close enough. I just had to get it near the edge.

Of course, that would have been easier to do if I wasn't running on, what I was sure was, a sprained ankle.

With every step, there was a shooting pain in my left ankle - it was almost enough to send me back to the floor. But I kept running. I ran as if my mom and dad were waiting at the finish line, ran as if I would be able to see them again if I did this. No matter how impossible the thought was, and I knew it was, it still worked. I was able to ignore the pain - I had had worse than a sprain - and run through the trees. I zigzagged as much as I could, trying hard to put as much distance between the Gogmagog and me as possible, so I could have a small chance of coming out of this alive.

I _hoped_ I came out of it alive...

* * *

It took five minutes of running until the trees started to thin out.

Five minutes of running and I was sure my ankle was suffering from a far worse sprain now.

But I was almost there - almost at the end. I just had to keep pushing forward.

I could hear trees crashing to the ground, the weight of them shaking the earth beneath my feet slightly. I could see small rocks and sticks jumping as the trees fell, the debris shifting as the vibrations echoed around. I could still hear the guttural, wordless cries of the beast behind me as it tried to close in, the sound of its weapon hitting against the bark of trees it passed sounding like bones breaking. That was _not_ a nice thought...

Before I knew it, I had reached the edge of the woods, the trees no longer blocking my path. I had nowhere else to go and the Gogmagog was quickly gaining on me. As I turned to look at the creature behind me, I found that it was far closer than I first thought. My throat started to close up as I realised that I really hadn't thought this through - that I had, probably, could have made this so much worse than before.

I was frozen again, unable to move as the creature came closer and closer. I wanted to move, but it was if my brain was disconnected from my body, rendering me unable to move. It was like I was stuck in quicksand - stay still and I die, move and I die faster.

The beast was getting closer, a sick gleaming seeming to come into its eyes as it grew nearer - like it _knew_ I couldn't move.

Out of nowhere, something hit me from my right side, sending me tumbling towards the ground. Whatever ran into me had wrapped around me, preventing me from hurting myself any more. As we - whoever the other thing/person was - I saw something/someone hit the Gogmagog from behind as it broke out from the trees, sending it tumbling off the edge of The Lookout Point. The creature fell, a piercing screech echoing as it descended. I could hear it colliding with the side of the cliff as it went before a final loud thud was the last of it.

 _"It's dead!"_ someone yelled.

At any other time, I could have put a name to that voice... Right now, I could only just remember who I was there with.

Blinking rapidly, I lifted my head from where it had been pulled against someone's chest, only to come face to face with Derek. Naturally, he looked pissed...but he also seemed relieved. As long as he didn't yell or start hitting things, I was fine with him being pissed. Slowly, I pulled myself away from Derek, regretting it slightly when a strong summer wind rushed past. Even with my hoodie on, I was cold. Shakily, I stood up, leaning against a tree to support my wobbling legs - not that the tree helped any when I was wrenched from it a brought into a bear hug.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?!" Scott breathed, his heart pounding erratically.

"You were gone for two hours... I was worried." I whispered, returning my best friend's hug. "I can't lose you too."

It was another long moment before Scott and I pulled away from each other, but I only found myself pulled into Allison's embrace. The huntress worried over me like a mother hen, asking over and over whether I was alright. Of course, the fact she was worrying over me sent a thought through my head - were _they_ injured.

Pulling myself out of Allison's grip, I started to check her over.

Then Scott.

Then Derek.

Then Danny, Jackson and Lydia.

Then Boyd, Erica and Isaac.

Then Oliver, Talia, Peter and Grace.

It was only when I saw the looks of confusion that I realised what I was doing, who I was doing it to. As abruptly as I had started, I stopped, turning in place and walking back towards the house with them all following not too far behind me.

* * *

Back at the house, I kept my head down and walked straight to the stairs, taking them two at a time. I reached the room I had been put up in within seconds, grabbing the cell phone that Derek had bought me, I scrolled through that few contacts I had, landing on one that I had had memorized for _years_. As I sent a quick text as to what had happened with the Gogmagogs, I couldn't help but wonder if he would get it - if he still had the same number. He had to, right? I mean, uncle Gabe would have found a way to tell me otherwise...

Shaking my head slightly, I placed my phone back onto the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed. I hadn't spoken to anyone on our way back to the house - I hadn't said a word since letting Allison know I was alright.

I couldn't have been alone for more than a minute when there was a knock at the door, the wooden rectangle opening just a crack moments later. I looked up to find Derek standing halfway in the room and halfway in the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as he tried to come up with something to say. As he saw me looking at him, Derek came further into the room, closing the door softly behind him. He didn't look pissed any more, just relieved and, surprisingly, a little embarrassed. But, before he could say anything or I could question the look, I walked over to him and hugged him, my arms finding their place around his neck. It took him mere moments to return the gesture.

In that moment, there was an unspoken forgiveness from me to Derek about him blabbing my secret, as well as a thank you for what had happened at The Lookout Point. Just with a hug, Derek seemed to understand what I was trying to say, which made it so much easier. Just like that, all the tensions Derek seemed to have had leaked out of him, the Alpha wolf sighing slightly even as he whispered that he was sorry.

* * *

** Derek **

Seeing Stiles in the Preserve had turned my blood cold. I had forgotten everything else and just focused on him...

I lost control when I saw that _thing_ throw him.

I used all my strength to stop it from reaching him.

The kid hadn't been around long, but he was Pack. He was a part of my Pack, whether he knew that yet or not!

My heart rate had yet to settle since I had seen him in the Preserve, the muscle working overtime, still getting over the panic of seeing him there. After everything he had already been through and seen, he shouldn't have been there.

Yet he was. Because he was worried about _us_.

What does that say about him?

I had managed to get him talking as we stood in his room and hugged. I also, after much protest from him, managed to wrap up his badly sprained ankle, making Scott promise to bring his mom over so she could take a look at it and find out how much damage he had caused it. I had managed to give him some painkillers and got him to eat just a little bit, he was far too skinny for his own good and we were _all_ looking to change that...

He was Pack.

He was family now.

We just had to make him see that.


	18. For Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG - WRITERS BLOCK AND COLLEGE AND I'VE NOW BEEN TOLD I HAVE ANXIETY - possible depression - AND I'VE ACTUALLY STARTED TO HAVE PANIC ATTACKS! IT'S BEEN CRAZY, BUT HERE WE GO ^_^

**Chapter 17**

** Derek **

I couldn't bring myself to leave Stiles' room that night. Well, that, and anytime I tried to get out of the grip he had on my t-shirt he would start to whimper and cry out in his sleep. In the end, I figured it wouldn't be so bad to stay with him for the night.

He fell asleep surprisingly quickly but, I suppose, all that running would have made a human pass out. I was a little surprised that he had lasted that long, considering how little sleep he got, as well as how underweight he was. I mean, I had to carry him and place him on his bed after he fell asleep against me - he was _far_ too light for a human.

Lying in the bed and watching him sleep, I couldn't help but notice just how... _peaceful_ he looked. So peaceful and innocent and _young_. He looked younger than sixteen - almost seventeen - whether that was due to how skinny he was, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that he looked far younger than he was, and it killed me to even just think of that. His face was smoothed over - no frown lines, no worry, no panic. He was completely relaxed for the first time. I had never seen him so at peace.

The teenager huddled closer to me, in his sleep, as we lay there, his head cushioned on my chest and one hand curled in my t-shirt. I couldn't just leave him by himself. I didn't know what it was about him that made me act differently. I didn't know what it was about him that made me want to hide him from everyone - and everything. All I knew was that I saw red when I found him in that Agency. When I had found him being beaten. When I had found him almost being raped against a wall, no one stopping it. I couldn't help but see red every time he mentioned that place, or her. I couldn't help but see red when that stupid Owen kid mentioned Octavian, everyone jumping on Stiles about him as soon as we got back to the house. If Stiles or I never saw that Octavian kid again, it would be too soon.

I hadn't realised I had tensed up, and letting my anger start getting the better of me, until I heard a tiny whimper coming from the human using me as a pillow. It was such a small, broken sound - something you would expect from a toddler having a nightmare. I turned my focus back to him, just looking at his face and moving my hand lightly over his arm, slowly calming down as I did so. I watched as the frown lines on his face smoothed out, the tension in his hand easing a little.

I told myself, right there and then, that I would do everything within my power - as this kid's Alpha _and_ his friend - to keep him happy and safe. The time he had spent pissed at me, though deserved, had put me on edge and I couldn't do that again. I would be the best I could be and I would show this kid that he could trust me. I needed that. _He_ needed that.

* * *

** Stiles **

When I woke up that Sunday morning - June 24th 2012 - I was surrounded by this unusual heat. I was used to being freezing or, when I was at Scott's or now I lived with the Hales, comfortably warm, but now it felt as if I was overheating slightly. It wasn't unbearable - just uncomfortable enough to need a fan on in the room to cool me down a little.

Sluggishly, I began to open my eyes, blinking lazily. I didn't expect the room to be flooded with light, nor did I expect to feel someone behind me. I felt my eyes go wide as my chest grew tight, as if someone was pushing against it. It was the same feeling you would get if you held your breath, only far more noticeable. It was hard to breathe - every time I took air in, it felt as if my throat was raw, as if I had just finished eating a mint. My breathing slowed, every breath I took just as deep as the next as I stared at nothing on the far corner of the wall, the pressure on my chest increasing slowly. It was as the pressure increased that I started to panic, the feeling slowly getting worse, niggling in the back of my mind as all sorts of thoughts on what could have happened sprang to mind - _Octavian found me and made good on his promise; I never left the Agency and I created this alternative, whilst Octavian made good on his promise;_ Derek _had done this..._ So many ideas raced around in my head, the pressure of the body behind and around me doing nothing to eradicate the fear and panic that was building inside. It was then that the headache came and I started to feel sick. I knew that the pain in my head was, probably, because of the lack of oxygen getting there, but it didn't help any - all it did was make me feel dizzy.

The body pressed closed to me, pulling me back tighter. My vision started to blur, black spots coloured my view of things. Breathing was getting harder. I couldn't swallow. I was paralysed. Only when their nose made contact with the back of my neck did I react.

I thrashed.

Hard.

I kicked.

I scratched.

I did all I could to get away.

The person behind me jolted awake as I made my attack, the surprise causing them to loosen their grip enough for me to escape and make a run for it. I ran for the closest door, locking it behind me after I had slammed it shut.

A bathroom.

I was in a bathroom.

_Rules out my second idea, then._

I stumbled over to the sink, running the cold water before splashing it on my face, trying to just snap myself out of this state. Not that it worked. I could hear someone knocking on the door, a frantic voice calling through the wood, but I couldn't make out any words or pinpoint an actual voice - it was as if my ears were stuffed with cotton. Turning, I leant my back against the wall, sliding down until I sat on the floor - knees to my chest and hands gripped in my hair, eyes shut tight as I tried to breathe.

* * *

**Derek**

Stiles had been in the bathroom for two hours. I tried talking to him - I had thought about breaking down the door, I had thought about bringing him out myself... And then I would think of how I found him. How he was treated in _That Place_. I couldn't do that to him. Not after everything that had happened to him, not after I had promised I wouldn't hurt him.

I didn't know what to do.

"Stiles, _please_!" I called again. "Just come out! _I'm sorry_!"

Not that I knew what I was sorry for. One moment I was sleeping and, the next, I was being hit from, what felt like, every direction! I couldn't understand how Stiles could change so quickly, acting like the smart mouthed teenager I knew one moment, and completely switching it up the next. I suppose he had to learn, to cover up the real him whilst at _That Place_.

I knocked on the door again, calmer than before. I figured it would only make him panic more if I was too anxious. But the heartbeat in the bathroom wasn't slowing down, only speeding up.

"Stiles, it's alright!" I told him. "You don't have to be scared!"

But he didn't reply.

I could hear little mutterings, the sound of someone talking to themselves. I couldn't hear clearly what was being said, the voice too low for even my ears... But I didn't like the words I picked out - _knife, skin, pull_.

Running out of the room, I scrambled my way down the stairs to the floor below, banging on the door to my mom and dad's room. Everyone on the floor walked out of their rooms, eyes blurry and hair all over the place.

"Stiles - locked door - knife - screwdriver. _Now_!" I blurted as soon as dad opened the door, pressing my hands against one side of the doorframe to keep myself from falling in.

Before I knew what was happening, Peter raced passed me and down the stairs. Locking my ears onto his movements, I heard him going for the toolbox. Only when I heard that did I run back upstairs, hoping against all hope that we could get in the door in time.

* * *

**Stiles**

I switched from looking at the knife, to my left arm, to the bathroom door as I sat on the floor, sweat running down the back of my neck, making my clothes stick to me.

I needed a shower and to change. To get on with my day... I knew that... I just _couldn't_ seem to stop gripping the knife.

I _couldn't_ stop the slight shake to my hands.

I _couldn't_ stop the bile rising in my throat.

I _couldn't_ stop the stinging in my eyes.

I _couldn't_ stop the panic from growing.

I _couldn't_ stop my heart from beating so quickly.

I _couldn't_ stop my breathing from being so short and shallow.

I _couldn't stop wanting_ to put the sharp, serrated edge of the knife against the skin of my left forearm, just to draw the knife towards me, cutting my flesh like melting butter.

With that I turned, throwing the knife at the door, screaming...

The sharp point stuck into the wall, leaving the knife hanging there. Mocking me. The cold metal of the blade glistening in the morning light, the wooden handle darkening in the shadows cast over it, making it all the more worse.

I didn't even realise I had started crying until I lifted my hands up, to drag my hands over my face.

Turning my face away, I buried my head in my hands as I bawled my eyes out...

I was a mess.

Had been since I had that stupid knife in my backpack...

But back then I needed it. Sometimes I still do. All I wanted to do was go over to it, yank the thing out of my door and get it over and done with. Then I could throw it back in the draw I had hidden it in and just get on with the self-loathing.

_I promised myself I would stop._

**No one has to know...**

_I would know_...

**But you want to. You** **_need_ ** **to!**

_No! I don't... I never do._

**You want to feel it. The pain, the release, the feeling of just being able to let it all go.**

_But, I..._

**You** **_need_ ** **it. No point arguing. Just do it...**

**Do it.**

**Do** **_it._ **

**_Do it._ **

**_DO IT!_ **

Dragging a my hands down my face, I pressed them to my face, screaming, _hoping_ to get rid of some of the frustration building up.

I couldn't do it... I promised myself I would stop...

**But we knew that wouldn't happen. You're weak. Pathetic. Alone. Always have been, always will. Your dad probably** **_wanted_ ** **to be shot, just so he didn't have to deal with you.**

_Shut up. No. My dad loved me..._

**Then why was he never around? Why is no one ever around you, unless they want something? Unless they** **want to** _**get some release, even if the pathetic human is unwilling?** _

I stopped.

All noise stopped.

I sat there, slowly lifting my tear stained face out of my hands. Shakily running a hand through my hair, I hauled myself up before slowly pulling off my shits, throwing it carelessly to the ground - I hadn't changed from yesterday.

Carefully, I walked over to the door _it_ was stuck in, moving until I had my hand around it. Jiggling it a little, I managed to pull it free, gripping it in my right hand just like before. Sitting once again with my back against the counter.

Twisting my wrist a little, I watched as the light bounced off of the metal blade, making it sparkle in the tiled room.

**That's it. Now, just like before. Put it on your skin and** **_PULL_ ** **! Make it** **_hurt_ ** **!**

As more and more tears rolled down my face, I lifted my right hand up, moving it slowly over to my left forearm.

It was something I had done many times in the, almost, years I had lived at the Agency...not that anyone ever knew.

Taking a deep breath, I was close to placing the cool serrated edge of the knife against my overheated skin, needing to release some of the pressure, needing something to help me relax...

But, before I could, a hand grabbed my wrist in a firm yet gentle grip.

I jumped, my head snapping up, meeting those faded forest green eyes. Neither of us said a thing as he uncurled my fingers, one by one, until he could take the knife and put it up on the counter for now. The whole time, he kept a hold of my wrist, the pressure almost reassuring.

I knew he could see the old scars - few I had given myself, the majority I had given to me by others - but I didn't care. I had lost the ability to care about someone seeing what had happened to me. All I could think of was wanting it to end, for the constant pain to stop.

When Derek lifted his hand, I thought he was going to hit me. I thought he was going to hit me just like they did at the Agency. I thought I had finally made him snap. But all he did was place his hand behind my head as gently as he could, carefully applying pressure until my head was resting in the crook of his neck and I was curled up against him.

He didn't say a thing as I sat there crying.

* * *

**Derek**

The family went out for the day, giving Stiles some space and leaving him with me. After he had calmed down slightly, I laid him on his bed, gathering up anything sharp that Stiles could use to hurt himself - I wasn't taking any risks! I put them all in my room, locking the door behind me before going to check on him.

I asked if he wanted to talk - he shook his head no.

I asked if he wanted something to drink or eat - he shook his head no.

I asked if he wanted me to stay with him - he shook his head no.

I asked if he wanted me to leave him alone for a little bit - hesitantly, he nodded his head yes.

I had placed m hand, lightly, on his back, rubbing slightly, telling him that it was fine that he wanted to be alone and that I would be in the living room if he needed me.

That had been around an hour ago - I wasn't entirely sure.

I had put on this crap-tasic movie, trying to keep myself calm by focusing on the shit playing in front of me, but I couldn't stop my jaw from tightening, my hands from clenching. I couldn't help but to think of what _they_ must have done to put Stiles in such a place, to get him to a point where he was about ready to hurt himself! I wanted to punch something - or someone - just so I could have the satisfaction of, at least, getting one person back for what they had done to him.

Growling lowly, I screwed my eyes shut and leant my head back, breathing harshly through my nose. I was just trying to concentrate on relaxing my muscles - I didn't want to be angry, Stiles didn't need that! Of course, I was concentrating so much that I didn't realise anyone else was in the room until they were seated on my lap. Opening my eyes as fast as I could, I came face to face with the teenager in question, his eyes red and tear tracks marring his face. For a moment he just sat there, staring at me, seeming to be far away. I was about to say something when he kissed me.

The pressure of his lips on mine relaxed me instantly, every muscle unwinding at once. Automatically, my hands came up to hold him steady, hold him close, but not so tight that he couldn't get up and walk away if he wanted. The feeling of soft full lips made the wires in my brain cross, short circuiting what few brain cells I actually had - it didn't even matter that he was inexperienced! That feeling...it was something I felt like I had been missing. Something that I had been trying to find for a long time. When I had first met Stiles, I knew there was something different about him, something that always drew my attention to him whenever I was around him. I didn't think of it much, at first, thinking it was just because he was annoying. Then, the day I took away his pain in the diner, I realised that, no, that wasn't the reason. Something else was going on and I didn't know what. I didn't even entertain what we were doing now as the reason - but it felt right.

As I felt one of Stiles' hands shakily grasp my shirt, I suddenly felt the other drop like lightning to the front of my jeans, rubbing me through the material. The friction, the pressure, the who...it was - well, I couldn't describe what it was like. But alarm bells raised in my head at that moment.

"What are you doing?" I breathed, pulling away slightly, eyes half lidded.

"M-Making you ha-happy..." Stiles replied, shakily.

Everything in my mind grinded to a halt - all the fluffy thoughts, all the good feeling. Stiles was thinking that he _had_ to do this. That it wasn't a choice, that it was an obligation. I didn't want this to be an obligation, I wanted him to do because he wanted to - wanted me.

I almost threw up.

"Stiles, stop." I commanded, softly.

"J-Just let me make you h-happy." Stiles gulped, his voice cracking slightly.

As gently as I could, I lifted Stiles up off of me, standing him in front of me before getting up myself.

"Stiles, you _never_ have to do this. _Ever_." I tried to explain. "Just because someone is in a bad mood, that doesn't mean you do... _that_. Ok?"

"B-But... Octavian said-" Stiles started.

"Octavian knows shit! Stiles, whatever he - whatever _they_ \- made you think is wrong, all of it! And you're worth so much more. You don't do things like that to make people happy, Stiles."

I could see the moment the fog cleared from his mind, his eyes becoming a little less dull and grey. I could see the confusion, the embarrassment but, above all, I could see the disgust and the _fear_. Yet again, he started crying - nothing he could have done could have stopped them from coming. He started begging me not to take him back, that he would do _anything_ to stay. All I could do was wrap my arms around him and hug him close.

"You're never going back." I told him. "You're going to stay here and I'm going to look after you. I want you here and nowhere else."

He just cried harder, pressing closer and gripping tighter, his whole body shaking as he cried. I sat back down on the couch, dragging him down with me and getting him to curl up next to me, just like we had in the bathroom - only now with a comfier seating arrangement. He cried harder than I had seen him since I had known him, seeing him as far younger than almost seventeen. The pure pain in his cries cutting deep within me, making me want to just take it all away from him, so he never had to feel it again.

Even after he had calmed down, at least half an hour later, we sat in silence for a while longer. I rubbed my hand up and down his back, running my fingers through his hair a few times - he seemed to relax at that - as he huddled closer and turned his face into the crook of my neck.

"Why don't we call Scott?" I offered, quietly. "See if he wants to meet up at the diner for lunch?"

A small sniffle and a tiny nod later, I dialled the Betas number, arranging for him to meet us in an hour.

* * *

**Stiles**

I was appalled at myself.

I _hated_ myself.

And Derek was still so kind.

He hadn't hit me, he hadn't kicked me out and he wasn't taking me back. After I had... _done that_ , he was still keeping me. That thought alone had started the tears. And then he asked if I wanted to meet up with my best friend, the guy who had stood by through everything - even if he didn't know everything that had happened to me at the Agency. I couldn't believe how this was the same guy I called Sourwolf, the same guy that used to growl at me. It was just a façade - really, Derek was just this massive, muscley teddy bear.

He had helped me up and walked with me up the stairs, both of us needed to shower and change before we met Scott anywhere. By the time I had actually got out of the shower and changed, Derek was sitting on the bed in the room he had given me, my red leather jacket sitting next to him.

"It's a little cold out." was all he said when I frowned at the article of clothing.

I had only nodded, pulling it on, the material somehow smelling of the Alpha wolf in front of me. Not that I was complaining - it was... _comforting_.

As we made our way out of the house and to Derek's car, he stayed close to me. He practically ran to the driver's side door and dived in when we reached it, as if he didn't want to be away for too long. He was the same way when we reached the diner, the Alpha deciding to slide into the booth next to me, instead of opposite on the same side as Scott.

Scott hadn't actually showed up at that moment, since Derek and I had arrived slightly earlier than we had arranged. But that was fine. We ordered drinks, getting one for Scott since he always got the same and just sat there. We just sat there in the calm silence, Derek's arm draped around the back of the booths bench, almost protectively, his fingers subconsciously playing with strands of my hair.

For now, I was calm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG - WRITERS BLOCK AND COLLEGE AND I'VE NOW BEEN TOLD I HAVE ANXIETY - possible depression - AND I'VE ACTUALLY STARTED TO HAVE PANIC ATTACKS! IT'S BEEN CRAZY, BUT HERE WE GO ^_^
> 
> Please, please review XD
> 
> Thanks all you for sticking with this XD


	19. Thunderstorms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY I HAD WRITTER'S BLOCK!
> 
> Ok, so quick thing - I'm making Laura, Derek and Cora call Peter and Grace Tío and Tía, just because Derek can speak Spanish XD

**Chapter 18**

** Stiles **

It didn't take long for Scott to turn up, only five minutes or so. He was smiley and happy, but I could see the underlying worry in his eyes. He didn't even blink at the fact Derek was next to me, an almost protective arm slung across the back of the booths bench. He just sat down, blissfully unaware of what had happened, yet still aware of it. He didn't ask either, something he had figured out not to do within a couple of weeks of finding out I was at the Agency.

Derek and Scott carried the conversation, listening to the two of them helping to distract me from the thoughts. I couldn't tell you what the conversation was about, only that the tone of their voices were actually quite soothing.

When it came to food, I didn't get a choice as to whether or not I was eating. Derek and Scott had decided I was too thin, saying that it would be good for me, even if I only ate a little bit. Reluctantly, I agreed, no energy in me to put up a fight. I mean, was there really any point, considering they were just going to order something for me anyway? Sighing quietly, I wrapped my jacket around my tighter, the leather squeaking slightly as I did. In seconds, Scott's eyes were on me, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pulled down into a concerned frown. But, again, he said and asked nothing about it.

"What are we doing on the full moon?" Scott asked instead. "Jackson, Isaac, Erica and Boyd still need to be locked up."

"We'll just do what we usually do." Derek shrugged.

"Will that be safe?"

Even if I _wasn't_ watching, I would still know Scott had glanced over at me. It was in his tone.

"Considering I've faced full moons at _That Place_ , I'm sure I'll be fine." I muttered, turning my head to stare out of the window. "Besides, I don't think nine days is long enough to find somewhere else no one goes and set everything up. And yes, I know the lunar calendar."

It was kind of something you had to learn, to be honest, when your best-friend-comma-surrogate-brother is a werewolf and you live with a bunch of supernatural beings that were affected by the full moon. It was a good thing to stay on top of.

* * *

I ate more than I first thought I would, only having to catch a scent of the fries in front of me before I was showing them down my throat as fast as I could. I didn't really realise how hungry I was until that moment. It wasn't that I hadn't been fed - not like at the Agency - it was a matter of I didn't eat, or I would make it look like I had eaten. I had gotten used to eating little to nothing, only rarely being able to stand a lot of food in my system at times. Of course, this worried Melissa, Scott and now Derek and his family. But it was what I was used to!

A hand on my shoulder stopped me from shovelling more food in, my hand instantly pulling away as I pushed myself into the corner of the booth, head down and facing away.

"Slow down, before you make yourself sick." Derek chided, softly. "It's not going to disappear."

It was weird, associating Derek with soft... I was used to him being all bad-ass and shit, now he was a giant teddy. I couldn't understand it. I tilted my head to the right, getting a small look at both him and Scott - Scott was pretending like he was seeing or hearing anything, like the good friend he was, whilst Derek kept his expression concerned with reassurance blazing in his eyes. The mixture stabbed me when I saw it, making me feel sick and thoroughly guilty that I had to make him do this - especially when I remembered what happened that morning.

Relaxing slightly, I ate at what people would consider a ' _normal_ ' pace, no longer cramming food into my mouth and seeming as if I could choke at any moment. As I ate, Derek's hand didn't leave, he only moved it until his arm was resting comfortably around my shoulders instead of the bench.

"Hey, Sti? We still seeing TDKR?" Scott asked, taking attention away from what just happened.

"Do you _need_ to ask?" I scoffed, smiling slightly. "How long have we been planning this?"

"What's TDKR?" Derek questioned, slowly.

I stopped.

And I turned to face him.

And I stared, blinking rapidly.

"Y-You're kidding, right?" I demanded, stuttering slightly. "Scott, buddy, tell me he's kidding.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Scott smirking, shaking his head.

"Should I know what it is?" Derek asked. "Do we need to kill it?"

"Do that and I think Stiles will kill _you_." Scott laughed.

"TDKR... The Dark Knight Rises... _Batman_!" I squeaked, arms flailing.

But Derek just blinked at me. Blinked at me like he had no idea what the hell I was going on about. It was kind of a good thing though, I suppose, considering it gave me the chance to introduce someone into the magical world of DC and Marvel, but it also took my mind off of _The Incident_ from that morning.

"Have you _at least_ heard of Iron Man? Or Superman? Spiderman? _Any superhero ever created_?!" I begged, shifting until I was half kneeling on the bench of the booth. "You _must_ have heard of one!"

But Derek just shook his head, starting to look worried as my eyes widened. And Scott? Scott just thought it was the funniest thing ever.

"Ok, fine, I have until July sixteenth to get you caught up on everything DC and Marvel." I nodded, talking mostly to myself. "That's fine, that's doable - provided nothing important comes up. Scott, you have to be there, for obvious reasons - besides, you have the DVDs. We can do this. It will be done even if it's the last thing I do!"

"Why July sixteenth?" Derek wondered, hesitantly pushing his words out.

"Because that's when Scott and I are seeing TDKR and you're coming with us, whether we have to bribe you, drag you or whatever!"

"Don't think you can talk him out of is." Scott snickered to Derek. "When he gets like this, there's no reasoning with him.

Three weeks and a day to watch every - or as close to every - DC and Marvel movie known to man thus far...

* * *

We stayed at the diner for a few more hours until we went back to the house, Scott leaving us to meet up with Allison at the coffee shop. The drive back was quiet, almost like the calm after the storm. Music played quietly from the radio, the only other sound being the purr of the engine as we cruised down the street.

Seeing cars parked to the right of the house, I didn't need wolfy powers to know that Derek's family was home. Every single one of them were inside, hopefully about to pretend that nothing had happened.

"Are you alright?" Derek asked, slowly.

"Of course I am." I mumbled, staring down at me hands.

"Can you _please_ not go back to this? In the diner, you acted just like you used to... I kind of miss that."

Now that surprised me.

"You? You miss that? The guy that threatened to rip my throat out with his teeth the first time I met him, because I wouldn't stop talking?" I scoffed, leaning back against the seat.

"It's different now." he muttered.

"Why? Because you know I'm an orphan? Because you know how I've been living for most of my life?"

"No. Because I know you now."

Looking up and to the side, I stared right into his eyes. He was looking at me with such intensity that I couldn't help but believe him. You know that look? The look where it's like someone's staring right down into your soul, and they're so open that it feels like you're doing the same?

"Let's go inside." he said, opening his door and sliding out.

I followed behind him, taking it slower than I did the first time he brought me to the house, careful not to trip over anything. Before we even got to the door, it swung open. All I saw were blurs and all I heard were loud high pitched squeals, until I was jumped on by two little children. Jessie and Luna hung from around my neck as I used my arms to support them, both of them grinning at me. I felt a warmth that I hadn't felt in _years_ start to creep up on me, grinning myself as I head everyone else laugh. I remembered, one night, being told it was hard to win the kids over, that it took some of Derek's pack _months_ before the kids finally accepted them... But the two of them had taken to me like ducks to water - well, that's what Grace had said.

"Hello, munchkins." I chuckled, holding them a little tighter against me as they buried their faces in my hair, making my glasses shift slightly.

As the kids occupied themselves with hanging like monkeys, I took a quick look around at everyone. Everyone looked fine, but Peter and Grace looked exhausted. Well, they would - they had a teenager and two young children to deal with day in and day out!

But I didn't say anything - well, not until the group separated, leaving me with the two girls and their parents.

"Why don't you two go out?" I asked them, still juggling the girls.

"We would if we could." Peter sighed, smiling slightly. "But everyone's seemed to have made plans, so no one's around to watch our Little Doves."

"I'll watch them." I shrugged.

I never thought I would ever see the creepy wolf laugh. Maybe calmly chuckle and snicker, but never full out, belly laugh. But I did, right at that moment. His eyes crinkled, wrapping an arm loosely around his torso. He kept going until Grace hit him.

"It won't be easy." Peter snickered. "They will tire your little human ass out so fast."

"I spent close to a decade have to deal with all ages of different supernaturals." I stated before smirking. "Just watch me."

It didn't take that much more convincing for Peter to agree, but Grace was still a little unsure. Not because she didn't trust me, but because she didn't want to ' _be an inconvenience_ ' and ' _feel like I had to_ ' and so on. After explaining to her that that wasn't why I offered, as well as Peter pointing out Derek would be around as well, Grace finally agreed, the two leaving within an hour after that.

The only people left in the house, from six thirty that evening, were Derek, Jessie, Luna and myself. Just the four of us left in the house. For Oliver and Talia it was date night, Cora and Janice had arranged a get together with friends, and obviously Peter and Grace were getting the night off.

Everything was fine, just like I had told Peter and Grace it would be.

* * *

** Derek **

I was regretting my decision the moment I had opened my mouth. I had told Stiles I was going out for a run to work off some energy, not telling him it was due to frustration from everything that had happened. I had made sure he would be fine first, making sure he was alright with it before I went anywhere, only leaving when I heard him reply ' _yes_ ' and didn't hear his heart speed up. I was regretting it, wondering if I should have just sucked it up, or at least waited until everyone was home so I didn't leave him all alone. I mean, sure, the girls wouldn't hurt a fly, but they were young and still learning control.

It was as I turned back and ran past an opening, however, that I saw it.

Stiles, apparently, hadn't wanted to stay in the house, considering he was out in a clearing, by a lake, playing with my baby cousins.

I watched as he taught them both to skip rocks.

I watched as he played tag with them.

I just watched as he interacted with the babies of my family, watching as he relaxed and was being himself.

Now, don't get me wrong, I loved the fact that he was having a blast and was opening up... I just hated that it wasn't with me. I would have given anything for him to have trusted me again, for him to want to open up with me again, just like he did after that nightmare about the night his dad was shot. That was it. Nothing since then. Not that I blamed him.

I saw a genuine smile on his face, something I don't think I had ever seen since I had been meeting up with him and Scott. Every smile seemed to be so forced and fake, almost like he felt as if he _had_ to smile, like that's what the situation called for. He was the opposite to me - if I didn't want to smile, I wouldn't. Why should I? Why should I force myself to smile at something? Because that's what society dictates? Well, society can go fuck themselves, thank you very much. No, right now, his smile was warm and full of life. Full of childlike amusement, something he hadn't had a lot of since living in _That Place_.

To be honest, I couldn't tell you how long I stayed there, watching them through a gap in the trees, but after sometime I went on running before Stiles - or the girls - could see me standing there.

* * *

It was, around, nine thirty that everyone came home - everyone but Stiles, that is. It wasn't horrendously late, but when I went out to check the clearing I had found them in, they weren't there. Peter and Grace were panicking, mom and dad were close to calling the police, Janice and Cora were ready to run out and find them themselves... Laura seemed to be the only calm one.

"I'm sure they're fine." Laura soothed. "The girls are with Stiles and he knows his way back here."

"But what if he runs into some of those... _heathens_?!" Peter growled. "Derek's told us what they almost did to Stiles, imagine what they could do to him or Jessie or Luna without anyone there to stop it!"

"Yelling won't do anything to help, Peter." mom scolded, moving to stand in front of him. "We will find them. They will all be fine."

It was that moment that the door opened.

Stiles walked through the door, smiling slightly, completely unaware to the panic we had all been feeling, with Jessie and Luna asleep in his arms. As soon as he spotted Peter, his mouth stretched into a told-you-so smirk, slipping through everyone and up the stairs to put the girls in bed. Glancing at my uncle, I found him staring at where Stiles had disappeared, dumbfounded and - amazingly - impressed. It wasn't often that someone impressed, or surprised, my Uncle.

"I don't want to say I told you so..." Laura snickered. " _But_ , I told you so! He wouldn't let _anything_ happen to those girls - no need to panic."

"There was every reason to panic." Peter mumbled, trying to brush it off. "When you're a parent you'll understand."

"Whatever you say, Tío. But I'm still right."

I watched as Laura continued to tease him, acting much like an annoying five year old, instead of the twenty six year old she actually was. It was something I had grown used to with my older sister. Peter, of course, dealt with it how he always did - acted like an equally as annoying five year old - the two of them bickering. Though there were only eight years between Peter and Laura - two between my sister and I, ten between Peter and me - so of course they would bicker like kids. They were bickering so much that no one noticed that Stiles was sitting on the stairs, halfway down, leaning against the wall and still smiling.

"Everything alright?" he asked a little wary, looking between my mom and me.

"Oh, just _peachy_!" Peter crowed, grinning falsely. "Everything's _great_!"

With the overly sarcastic tone of Peter's voice, it was hard to miss the fact that he clearly wasn't completely alright. I could sense the change in Stiles instantly, his scent taking on a confused and worried tang.

"Over protective dad who worries easily." Cora explained, gesturing to Peter. "Nothing personal."

Like a switch, Stiles' eyes filled with understanding, hunching in on himself slightly and looking sheepish.

"I was going to call. But they fell asleep and I didn't want to wake them up... I couldn't reach into my pocket." he muttered, playing with a loose thread. "Being human's hard you know - wolves are heavy, whatever age, so I was slowed down. I'm sorry you were worried..."

Despite his scent and his demeanour, Stiles was snickering ever so slightly. In a way it was like he was forcing it, but on the other hand it was like he had no control over it.

"What?!" Peter demanded, forcing himself to stay calm around the kid.

"It's just... I've never seen you so worried before. It's cute." Stiles explained, yawning. "Now, if you excuse me, you're kids exhausted me - I'm going to bed... Thanks for trusting me."

* * *

** Stiles **

It was one of _those_ nights. You know? One of those nights where you're tired as fuck, yet you can't fall asleep? Yeah, it was one of _those_ nights. All I could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling, flipping around every few seconds. I just didn't understand what was wrong.

Usually, people say you can't sleep because: you're stressed, you haven't done enough during the day, you're worried about something. I had been all but the second one, yet I still managed to fall asleep! Just not tonight. Sighing, I pushed myself up so I was leaning back on my hands, sitting up in the bed. There wasn't much of anything I could do, especially since Derek would probably hear me. I mean, Scott always woke up if got up in the middle of the night and he was far from a light sleeper! Derek... Derek, I assumed, wasn't a light sleeper - the werewolf hearing just made it worse.

Derek. I didn't understand him. First he was this asshole, this real sour wolf... Now he acted like a giant teddy bear, great guy who wanted to help. Sure, it wasn't like he was _that_ kind of asshole, he was a good guy. He just had a bad attitude and, I thought, a bad personality. There were so many layers to this guy - like an onion! People were complicated.

Dropping onto my elbow, I reached for my phone, unlocking the screen.

_Still no messages._

I knew it had only been a day since I had texted my Uncle Gabe, but I thought for _sure_ he would have replied by now. Well, if he had the same number. Problem was, I had no other way to contact him and he had told me not to call the phone, just text. It was...worrying, to say the least.

_I just need someone..._

And maybe that was it. Maybe that was why I couldn't sleep. I mean, there had been times that I had crawled into bed with Scott, because I had gotten to the point of needing to know someone that actually cared was there. To know that there was someone that actually wanted me around. It had happened so often, that Scott had, subconsciously, in his sleep, started to sleep on only one side of the bed, instead of spreading across it like he used to. I always felt like a little kid, though, crawling into an older sibling's bed because they were scared of the dark, or something. It was kind of embarrassing. But Scott never poked fun at me for it. He never asked why I did it; he never told me to quit it. He was always there for me.

But it wasn't like I could call him, not at...

"Two thirty in the morning?" I groaned, flopping back down onto the bed.

The only other person was Derek. But after the whole thing that had happened that morning, I didn't think that would be a good idea. But I needed to sleep! So, I either swallowed my fear and tried, or stay awake all night.

_Well, the worst he can do is take me back. He already said he wouldn't do that._

Taking a deep breath, I slid out of the bed; grabbing a pillow, bundling the duvet around me and grabbing Wolfy from under all my pillows. I shuffled out of the room and across the hall, knocking lightly on the door - why wake up the whole house? Hearing a small groan from the other side of the door, I considered turning back. But I knew I would trip over the duvet, or Derek would open the door before I could get too far.

_In for a penny, in for a pound..._

When Derek had opened the door, he hadn't seemed to have been asleep. His light was on, a book lying face down and open on his bedside table... That had never happened before...

"What's wrong?" he asked, frowning slightly. "You ok?"

"I can't sleep." I mumbled, biting the inside of my cheek. "Can I sleep in here?"

* * *

_A low rumbling came from overhead, a flash of lightning illuminating the dark sky. Thunderstorm. I risked a glance out of the nearest window, the rain falling so hard I could barely make out the building across the street..._

_I had to hide._

_I couldn't handle thunderstorms at the best of times and, now I was living_ here _,_ _I was sure it could only get worse._ _Quickly placing the mop against the wall, I started to run towards the basement door, hoping to get down there before anyone saw me. I was so close; everyone was up their rooms, so no one was around to see me. I thought I would get away from it._

_And then I was grabbed._

_"Where'd ya think ya goin', brat?" Ms Johnson slurred, the scent of whisky strong on her breath. "Think ya can get away wiv not doin' ya work?"_

_"N-No, I-I'm sorry!" I whimpered, eyes wide and shaking. "P-Please, don't!"_

_"Sorry don't cut it, brat. You're goin' outside."_

_I tried to beg._

_I tried to plead._

_I tried screaming, just in case anyone outside with a soul could hear me._

_But nothing worked._

_It just made me cry, made me weaker. It just made her whack my head against the door frame, making my vision blur._

_The next thing I knew I was chained to the wall, by my wrist, in the 'garden'. It was just this small bit of land where they kept all the rotting rubbish and junk no one needed. It was where they would lock me outside when it rained or snowed. It was the one place I hated going most of all._

_My head was throbbing, blood dripping down the back of my skull, rolling down the back of my neck, slipping down my back. I could do nothing but cry and scream and try to get out of the chain around my wrist. Struggling was the worst thing I could do, the chain tightening around my wrist, cutting into my skin, bruising it as more blood started to appear, mixing with the heavy rain._

_I was scared. Who wouldn't be? I was only nine, already scared of storms. It wasn't like I had anyone to tell me it was alright anymore. I was nine, already scared of storms, and I was locked outside in one of the worst ones thus far, with no shelter!_

_As thunder rumbled like a truck, directly above my head, lightning flashed across the sky, far too close for comfort. It was so close that I thought the next bolt would hit me, would kill me... For a few moments, I wanted it to. I wanted the lightning to kill me, just so I could get away from it all. So I could stop feeling. So I could stop being so scared and weak. So I could stop all the pain and abuse!_

_I just wanted it to stop!_

_I tried harder to get the chain off of me, tried to get free so I could get back in - she never locked the door. But it was too tight, I couldn't go anywhere. I turned myself around so I was facing the wall, grabbing the chain with both hands, one foot against the wall and pulled, hoping to rip the chain off. It looked old enough to work... When was I ever that lucky? I pulled with everything I had, but I only succeeded in ripping skin off of my hands._

I woke up screaming and another roll of thunder echoed in the early morning, lightning illuminating the dark room and casting shadows. I felt warm-cold tears falling from my eyes, not being able to stop them as I sat there on the floor. As a light turned on, I turned to find Derek sitting up in his bed, the concerned frown back on his face as he flung himself round to see if I was alright.

I jumped as another lot of thunder sounded, crying harder as I tried to get away from the sound, hugging Wolfy closer to me as I sat there.

And then a hand appeared in my line of vision.

Seeing it was Derek, gingerly, I took the offered hand, keeping the stuffed toy in my hand. As gently as he could, Derek helped me up and pulled me over until I was on the bed. I pulled the covers high over our heads after turning his light off, leaving some space between us but keep hold of my hand.

It didn't stop the noise, but it blocked out the lightning.

"I told you - I won't let anything hurt you." he whispered, softly. "Ok?"

Not trusting my voice, I just nodded.

"Did you have a nightmare? About _That Place_?" he asked.

Another nod.

"Did she used to lock-"

I nodded before he could finish the question. Knowing he could see perfectly fine in the dark, I silently showed him the wrist of the hand he wasn't holding, allowing him to see the faint marks from the chain links. I knew he understood what it meant when I felt his hand squeeze mine.

"I promise you, she will pay for this. All of this." he told me, voice low. "Everything she ever did to you will never happen again."

As I went to nod again, thunder rumbled for the third time. The sound made me jolt, my entire body thrown towards Derek. I clung to his shirt, burying my head in his chest, squeezing my eyes shut as I desperately tried to stop crying. And Derek? Derek just wrapped his arms around me, loosely, rubbing a hand up and down my back as the other was placed gently behind my head.

He didn't say anything else. He didn't try to get me talk. He just lay there, holding me close as I cried, keeping me safe. I could hear a faint humming in my ear, the sound so close that it drowned out the noise of the thunder, calming me down as my other ear was pressed so close to him I could hear his heartbeat. Soon, I stopped shaking. I stopped crying. But neither of us let go. I felt so drained, so tired... I just started to fall asleep. But, just before I did, I felt something warm and soft pressed against my cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY I HAD WRITTER'S BLOCK! It sucks so much DX
> 
> Ok, so quick thing - I'm making Laura, Derek and Cora call Peter and Grace Tío and Tía, just because Derek can speak Spanish XD
> 
> Please, please review XD
> 
> Thanks everyone XD


	20. Explosions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: I apologise for my Spanish, it's all Google Translate, because I suck - translations are at the end of the story!

**Chapter 19**

** Stiles **

Waking up in the morning, I was far calmer than the day before. I remember where I was, I remembered who it was, I remembered why I was there. It still made me panic ever so slightly, but not as much as it would have if I hadn't known.

I slipped out of the bed - made hard due to how tangled I was with Derek. Thankfully, the Alpha wolf didn't wake up, just simply rolling over and hugging a pillow to his chest. I smiled a little, clutching Wolfy in my hand as I just watched the big bad Alpha hugging his pillow. Of course I knew it was creepy, that was why I left the room as quietly as possible as soon as I realised what I had been doing.

I went back into the room I had been using - showering and everything before throwing some clothes on.

Of course, it was as I was getting dressed, that I noticed something.

I noticed my superhero t-shirts - the ones that Derek had bought me.

I noticed the comic books - the ones Derek gave me.

I realised, Derek had lied to me.

Derek _and_ Scott had lied to me.

Derek had told me he hadn't heard of _The Dark Knight Rises_. He told me he hadn't heard of any superheroes. He and Scott both lied to me! I didn't know how to feel. I just kind of...stood there, staring at the box of comics.

What was I supposed to do? I mean, was I supposed to call him out on the lie? Was I supposed to ignore it? What was I supposed to do?!

So I just continued to stand there, staring at the box.

I had never felt so stupid.

* * *

I was sitting in the kitchen when Derek made an appearance. He was frowning, still in his pyjamas, looking for something or someone. I didn't look at him as he walked into the kitchen.

I didn't look at him when I realised I was what he was trying to find.

I didn't look at him.

I just looked at the cup of coffee I had in my hand, just staring at the light liquid.

Derek walked right up to my side, slowly - exaggeratedly - extending his hand until he could rest it on my shoulder. I didn't push his hand away, I didn't lean into the touch. I just sat there.

"Stiles?" Derek asked, cautiously. "Everything alright?"

"I dunno. Is it?" I deadpanned.

I didn't need to see his face to know he looked so much like a confused puppy. I could see the frown deepening, his head cocking to the side as he tried to work out what was going on, as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

"Have I done something wrong?" he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically small.

"Yeah, you have." I glared. "You lied. _Again_."

"What did I lie about?!"

"DC and Marvel."

"Oh..."

His hand dropped as he slipped into the chair next to mine, dragging his hand down his face. He just sat there, staring down at the table top, his head resting in his hand slightly. I don't think he really knew what to say, the Alpha just sitting there with his mouth flopping open and shut like a fish as he tried to find the words.

It was minutes before he heaved a sigh, turning to me to speak.

"It was the only thing we could come up with. You freaked out, you wouldn't talk to anyone about anything... The only thing you had actually expressed a like in was DC and Marvel." Derek explained. "I was trying to come up with something else, but Scott-"

"Scott? Scott put you up to that?" I interrupted, facing him for the first time.

"Well, he knows you better than I do and I thought-"

"You thought it was a good idea to use his idea, an idea that included _lying_. Really? After what happened?"

"I'll admit it wasn't the best-"

"No, it wasn't!"

Standing up and grumbling to myself, I dug through the pocket of my jeans, fishing for my phone, dialling Scott's number as soon as I got it out. Honestly, was it _that_ much to ask to not be lied to? I mean, fair enough if he didn't understand the initials, but deciding to lie to me about everything else?

And they wanted me to _trust_ them. How was I supposed to trust people who lied to me? And my own best friend! The guy who had known me all my life; the guy who _knew_ how I felt about lying! At least I didn't lie to people - no one _asked_ about my living situation; no one _asked_ what happened to me there!

Was it really too much to ask for?!

 _"Hey man, what's up?"_ Scott's cheerful voice said as he answered the phone.

"YOU LIED TO ME!" I screamed, watching as Derek flinched and envisioning Scott doing the same.

_"What? When did I lie to you?"_

"You _know_ when, you asshole! You know how I feel about lying and, not only did you lie to me, but you got Derek to lie to me too!"

_"Oh, that... Look, buddy-"_

"Don't you buddy me! You are _so_ in the doghouse for this!"

Just like that, I hung up the phone, throwing the device softly onto the table top. Running my hand through my hair, I started to pace. I had too much energy, too much anger - more than what was warranted, if I was being completely honest.

The more I thought about it all, the angrier I got.

The angrier I got, the more I paced.

The more I paced, the more I heard this high pitched whirring in my head.

The more I heard the whirring, the more I tightened my grip on my hair, almost ripping it out of my skull.

And then the mug exploded.

The mug that I had for my coffee exploded, pieces of ceramic flying in all directions, the sharp pieces barely missing Derek and I as we jumped. The hot liquid splashed all of the table, some of it catching us before we actually managed to get a safe distance away.

Just like that, the whirring was gone from inside my head. The anger was gone, so I was only filled with disappointment and sadness.

Derek and I just stared at where the coffee mug had once been, slowly looking towards each other for an answer neither of us had...

* * *

After my unexplained outburst - and explosion - were finished with, I, of course, apologised. I had no idea what had me so hot headed, no idea what made me snap at him. Derek had just said he deserved it, that I was right - he shouldn't have lied to me again, he should have learnt from his mistakes.

We had both cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, throwing away the broken mug - thankfully, it was just a generic white one and there was _plenty_ more. We had only just finished it when Derek's Pack showed up, Scott hiding behind Allison when he saw me. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the wolf boy by the arm, dragging him into a hug before apologising to him I explained to Allison and him what happened with the cup, asking if they knew of a way that could have happened... The only explanation they could come up with was supernatural, which didn't give me hope - but Allison said she would ask her dad, just in case evil ghosts were real or something.

As usual when Derek's Pack were over, we all migrated into the living room. I had already brought my laptop down that morning, having placed it in the living room before Derek had woken up - when I knew his Pack was coming over, I made sure I had something to occupy my time with. We were just sitting there, Derek's Pack all discussing training and the full moon - all that shit. No one blinked when Peter walked in, slumping tiredly into his armchair, almost falling asleep again. It was typical for this to happen - Derek's family joining us all in the living room - though it was usually only Peter, if it ever happened.

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes of everyone being there that Jaz came in. She was just going around the room, talking to herself in Spanish since the majority of those in the room couldn't speak it. Fortunately, I could.

"Oh, por el amor de Dios, el desorden! No sé por qué dejan que Peter se salga con un desastre! " Jaz ranted. "Si él era mi hijo, él no sería demasiado viejo para ser puesto sobre mis rodillas..."

I couldn't help but laugh quietly to myself, hearing what she said.

Hearing his name, Peter sat up straight, looking right at Jaz. She just kept on muttering to herself, Peter's name coming up over and over again.

"Jaz... Jaz!" Peter called to her. "What are you saying about me?"

"Basically, she's saying you're too messy and should learn to clean up after yourself, at least a little bit" I grinned, typing away on my laptop, snickering slightly.

I didn't even need to look up to see their expressions, knowing that they'd all be shocked that I could actually understand.

"Stiles, ¿cuánto tiempo ha estado hablando español?" Jaz asked, a slight laugh to her voice.

"Siempre. Entiendo una gran cantidad de idiomas." I grinned.

"Oh, inteligente pequeña cosa! ¿Cuántos años tenías?"

"No estoy seguro... No me acuerdo de aprendizaje, acabo...sé."

From there, Jaz and I just started talking about Peter - saying how he was far too sarcastic for his own good and, one day, it would cause him more trouble than it's worth; saying how he probably needed that good kick up the ass... It was far more fun than I thought it would be.

As we spoke, I just kept hearing Derek snickering to himself. Looking over, I noticed how red his face was from trying not to laugh, trying to keep himself together. The moment he saw me watching him, he completely lost it.

"Hey, I'm right here!" Peter protested, but grinning all the same.

"Learn the damn language and you won't have to worry so much." I grinned.

"I'm still surprised you know it."

"So sue me, I'm smart!"

* * *

I didn't realise, until after Jaz and Peter had left, that Derek understood everything we had been saying. He, like his mom and dad, had learnt Spanish because they felt it was such a beautiful language. They were the only ones in the family - so far - to do that. It was one of the reasons Derek and his sisters would call Peter and Grace Tío and Tía sometimes.

"What other languages can you speak?" Erica asked, the blonde genuinely interested.

I watched as the entire Pack all sat up straighter, looking at me with these wide and hopeful eyes. It looked so strange, but I could tell they actually wanted to know.

"Well, so far, I know I can speak: Spanish, French, Japanese, Greek, Latin and Indonesian." I told them. "I don't remember learning any of them, but I seem to know how to understand, speak and read those languages."

"So, you might know others, but you don't know?" Jackson clarified.

Nodding, I bit the inside of my lip, fiddling with a loose thread on my shirt.

"Is that even possible?" Isaac frowned.

"I dunno." I shrugged. "I'm guessing I learnt when I was younger and I just don't remember."

They didn't ask any more questions on that, just hearing what I said and taking it for truth. I honestly didn't know myself - I just assumed that was what had happened, so it wasn't like I was lying to them. It would have been nice to know how I knew them, to remember if it was my parents who taught me. But I didn't know.

Instead, they were getting me to teach them phrases, asking me how to say a certain phrase in each language - like: hello, my name is; I love you; how are you. They just kept asking me how to say certain things, certain words.

It was the first time I had actually had a decent conversation with most of them - the first time when I hadn't been targeted at school by some of them. It was different, strange... But I liked it. I liked it a lot more than our usual interactions. They were all actually treating me like a human being and it wasn't fake.

I liked it...

* * *

** Translations **

1) **Jaz =** Oh for heaven's sake, the mess! I don't know why they let Peter get away with such a mess! If he was my child, he would not be too old to be put over my knee...

2) **Jaz =** Stiles, how long have you been speaking Spanish?

3) **Stiles =** Always. I understand a lot of different languages.

4) **Jaz =** Oh, you clever little thing! How old were you?

5) **Stiles =** I'm not sure... I don't remember learning, I just...know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please review XD
> 
> Thanks a lot everyone XD


	21. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please review XD
> 
> SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT, BUT I'VE JUST STARTED UNIVERSITY!

**Chapter 20**

** Stiles **

A few days after the ' _Exploding Mug_ ' incident, I had woken up on the couch, groggily. See, Friday night, I had had enough. It was bugging me and I wanted to know what on _Earth_ happened. So, I had stayed up late, researching. Just trying to find _anything_ that could, maybe, help.

All I found were shitty ghost stories.

At first, I didn't know what woke me up. I just sat up on the couch, moving my laptop to the coffee table.

That was when I heard crying.

I couldn't remember a time I had ran so fast! All I knew was something was wrong. I ran out into the hallway, spinning in circles trying to figure out what had happened, what was going on. It was when I was facing the kitchen that I saw.

Little Luna was surrounded by broken glass, balling her eyes out, shards sticking to her pyjamas and into her feet. I didn't even stop to think, just running into the middle of the glass, hefting her up as I hugged her close.

I could feel my heard racing, could heard the blood pumping in my ears.

**_FLASHBACK - 12 year old Stiles_ **

_I hadn't meant to drop it._

_The cupboard was so high and I could only reach so far, standing on an old rickety chair._

_The glass had shattered around me, crying out as the chair slid from under my feet, making me fall onto the sharp edges. The shards stuck into my palm, jutted out of my knees and put small slices into my clothes. I tried the be brave, I tried not to make any noise - it would only make her angrier!_

_But I could never do it, even after all these years._

_Ms Johnson walked in, silently. She had a tumbled in her right hand, the glass holding more whisky than it should have been. The woman just stared for a moment, no expression on her face, the dull lighting of the kitchen casting her in shadows._

_I was frozen, staring up at her from my position on the floor. I didn't know what to do and nothing I said would help! Anything I did or said would only make it worse. I could only stay in that position - on my hands and knees, tears running down my cheeks._

_But she said nothing._

_She just stared at me._

_She drained her glass._

_She stood there._

_I thought, maybe, she would walk away! Maybe I would be alright this time! I hoped that she was too drunk to do anything._

_She threw the glass at me._

_It shattered over my head, the glass cascading over me, shallowly cutting the sides and back of my neck._

_The next thing I knew, I was held up against the wall by my neck, the sharp tips of claws only_ just _piercing the skin as I struggled to breathe._

_"Clean up ya mess!" she hissed, fangs extending._

_I had a migraine for far weeks after she bashed my head against the wall..._

**_END OF FLASHBACK_ **

* * *

** Derek **

The entire family heard the smash. We all heard Luna's wailing. Everyone had rushed out of their rooms, practically flying down the stairs and into the kitchen... We didn't expect to come face to face with what we did.

Luna was tightly encased in Stiles' arms, the boy seeming not to realise the pain he must be in. He held her so close to him, yet he was still gentle, trying to sooth her. None of us really knew what to do, none of us moved. We wanted to. We wanted to make sure they were both alright, but seeing Stiles' eyes glazed over? We didn't want to frighten him - he could hurt himself more!

But Peter had just zeroed in on the blood on his little girl. He saw that Stiles wasn't exactly _there_ , so he tried to get closer and take Luna from him.

Stiles just freaked out.

His feet dragged against the tiles, more glass stabbing into the soles of his feet, as he backed himself against the counter, holding onto Luna tighter.

He kept muttering how he wasn't going to let us hurt her, how we weren't going to do to her what we did to him.

That was when it clicked for me.

He wasn't seeing us. He was seeing _them_.

I should have realised straight away, it shouldn't have taken this long! I was the one that saw what they did to him, I had seen the bruises! I had seen what it had done to him - I had seen behind the act.

I felt like an absolute idiot.

The others tried to calm him down, tried to bring him back. Nothing was working. Nothing they said was getting through to him and getting closer wasn't an option. So what were we suppose to do? What was _I_ suppose to do? I was supposed to be the one looking after him! I was supposed to be the one to take care of him, make sure he was safe and alright.

_Some job I'm doing..._

It took minutes - minutes too long - until I had an idea. Thankfully, it wasn't hard to get Luna's attention.

"LuLu, think you can help Ricky?" I asked, quietly.

She just sniffled, nodding slightly.

"Can you try talking to Stiles?" I asked her.

She nodded again, her arms wrapping around Stiles' neck lightly.

Luna tried, she definitely tried... Everything she said just seemed to mix with everyone else.

* * *

** Stiles **

All I could hear were voices. Nothing the voices were saying made any sense, it was just noise. It was just this mass of noise that kept getting louder and louder... Nothing seemed to stop it.

_"Sti, Mommy 'nd Daddy wanna see if we're ok."_

That made me stop.

It was the only thing that wasn't noise, the only thing that was formed of actual words.

But, still, it didn't make sense.

No one cared. No one but Scott and Melissa, but they wouldn't be there. They _knew_ not to. Scott and Melissa were the only ones that cared.

And Derek.

Derek cared, right?

In the, almost, three weeks I had been in the house, Derek hadn't done anything to, physically hurt me. He had protected me, comforted me. He hadn't forced me to talk about or do anything. He had been kind to me, looked after me. He had been on my side from the get go.

So he cared. He had to care.

That thought made my head clear, cleared my eyes.

The first thing I saw - blood.

Suffice to say, it scared me.

The second thing I saw? Derek and his family staring at me, little Luna still in my arms.

"I-I am _so_ sorry!" I stuttered. "I-I'll clean it up. Promise!"

Derek and Peter came closer to us. I handed Luna to her Dad without hesitation, the thought that he would be worried flooding my mind. Luna buried herself into Peter the moment he had hold of him, the older wolf encasing her completely before stepping away from the glass.

"J-Just tell me where the dustpan and brush it, I-I'll clean it up!" I shuddered.

Before I could even move, Derek was next to me, wrapping his arms around me and carefully moving us away from the glass. He got me to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs, the dull ache in my feet from the glass only just registering.

"You're not cleaning it up." Derek told me, crouching in front of the chair. "And you have absolutely _nothing_ to be sorry for."

"You're definitely better than most, my boy. And I thank you." Peter smiled. "My Little Dove heals and you don't, yet you cared more about someone like us than yourself."

I just looked up at him.

I glanced at Luna, only briefly, before I shrugged.

"She's a kid." I told him. "She's a person. She deserves to be cared about. There's nothing to thank me for."

It started to get a little better from there. Everything had calmed down, Luna had stopped crying... The only thing left to do was to get the glass out of Luna and I, Oliver already clearing away the glass and blood.

The moment Derek tried to get the glass out of me, I shifted the chair back, refusing to let them help me until they helped Luna. He tried to tell me that she was already healed, that it should be me first because I was human and I didn't heal like them, that my wounds could become infected.

In the end, I won the argument.

* * *

**Derek**

Everything had been fine for the rest of the day.

Stiles had actually sat with us all, spoke with us all. He joined the conversation without being asked a direct question... All in all, it was as if he had started to relax, started to see that we weren't the enemy. Started to see that he would be treated differently here to how he was _there_.

I couldn't describe the feeling that gave me.

He still stayed close to me, still having to be reminded of little things - being allowed to sit on the couches, not having to ask for certain things - but he was doing better. He was getting there, slowly.

He was even smiling more, _laughing_! It was, as if, I was seeing a glimpse of the boy I had first met in that diner... I knew it would take _a long time_ before that happened, possibly a couple of years, but it was nice to know that side of him wasn't completely gone.

Everything was going fine.

Until he disappeared after dinner.

Stiles had told me he was just going to go outside, just going to get some fresh air. I hadn't realised he was gone until Laura came to my room, asking if I knew. That seemed to be the way to go - the moment I thought I was doing well as an Alpha, something happened and I fucked up! I couldn't care for one person, how was I supposed to care for nine!

Mom tried to calm me down, trying to explain yet again that it wasn't my fault, that I wasn't prepared to be an Alpha like Laura had... Just like the last time, it didn't make me feel any better. It just made me feel like I should have been working harder, should have pushed myself to be better! How was I supposed to make her proud if things kept going to shit.

The moment we had stepped outside, the majority of us going to track Stiles, all hoping he wasn't hurt, we saw him. He came swaying through the trees, an open bottle of Jack Daniels in either hand. He had this wide grin on his face as he stumbled closer, this manic giggle bubbling from his throat as he zigzagged.

I don't remember a time I moved faster than when I did to get to him, snatching the bottles out of his hands, throwing them far from him as I kept him upright.

Up close, the smell of alcohol was so strong, I could have been sick.

"And what do we have here?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow, his concern only slightly masked.

Stiles just laughed, his grin widening as he looked up at Peter.

"One of the few benift...beneft... _benefits_ of being human." Stiles said, slowly. "I can drink the pain away! I don't even know why I's so sad in the first place!"

Even though we were standing still, Stiles managed to stumble slightly, my grip on him tightening. It brought on another bought of giggles, but only for a few seconds. He seemed confused, his entire face scrunching up, head tilting slightly to the side.

"Derek... Why'm I so sad?" he asked, his hands fisting in my shirt to stay standing. "This is great - I _feel_ great!"

I could feel just how much it affected everyone standing outside with me, could feel the sadness sweeping over them all. I knew we were all thinking the same thing - how often had he drunk away his pain? How often had he drunk to forget?

I didn't say anything, didn't answer his question. It would have been useless, given how he practically fell asleep against me.

I did nothing but pick him up, carrying him up to his room to put him to bed.

I slept on his floor the entire night.

* * *

**Stiles**

I woke up with the mother of all hangovers!

The last thing I remembered was buying, about, three bottles of Jack, drinking around three quarters of the first one before my memory went black. I didn't need to throw up, thank God! But I had _the worst_ headache I ever remembered having, the worst taste was infesting my mouth, and everything hurt whenever I moved.

It took a lot for me to get downstairs.

Everyone, to my delight, were fairly quiet. Talia handed me a glass of water, Oliver placed some dry toast in front of me when I sat at the table - all I could do was make a bunch of noises as thanks, but I think they understood...

I practically inhaled the water, Grace kindly refilling it for me as I nibbled at the toast. Sure, it made me feel sick, but I knew I would feel better in the long run. That was when I actually spoke.

"Derek, gimmie your hand." I muttered, turning my head slightly towards the Alpha sitting next to me.

"What?" he asked, voice muffled by whatever he was eating.

If I could, I _would_ have rolled my eyes. Instead, I just felt wide, patting along the table top until I came in contact with his left hand, jerking it towards me until I could place it, _gently_ , on my head.

Instantly, some of the pain was leaving me.

"Damn, you're _way_ better at this than Scott!" I sighed, my shoulders relaxing slightly as I opened my eyes properly. "I think I'll keep you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT, BUT I'VE JUST STARTED UNIVERSITY!
> 
> Please, please review XD
> 
> Thanks for your patience everyone XD


	22. Shots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT, BUT I'M IN STARTED UNIVERSITY!

**Chapter 21**

**Stiles**

Monday, July 2nd, I woke up early, as usual. It wasn't easy to break a habit that had been going on for years! I mean, look at smokers... Or alcoholics, even drug addicts! Sure, waking up early was _nothing_ like that, but it was still a habit!

Besides, my Adderall hadn't been working properly...

I could barely sleep whenever I wasn't on my Adderall and, with it playing up, it was the exact same affect. It was hellish! All I would want is a good night's sleep, but I couldn't even have that!

I made sure to stay quiet when I got to the bottom of the stairs. See, Derek's Pack had ended up staying the night, all of them collecting in the living room for the night. Derek, Scott and Allison all tried to get me to stay with them, the three of them acting like an owner trying to socialise their pet. Obviously, I went up to the room I had been given. Don't get me wrong, the time I _had_ spent with them had been...decent enough. But I didn't want to spend the entire night with them, being pushed into conversation and knowing the majority didn't want me there.

I spent under an hour cleaning. There wasn't a lot to do, only some dusting and dishes... But my fingers were _itching_ for something to do! I needed to do _something_!

So I explored.

I hadn't seen all of the house, not by far. Derek and I just never had enough time, or we would forget. I thought that, maybe, it would make me calmer; get rid of some of my built up antsy-ness.

I hadn't even left the first floor when I stumbled upon this tiny room.

The only thing inside the room was this _beautiful_ , black Grand Piano. It was in great condition, but obvious that it had been well played. Someone had loved the instrument exactly how it should have been loved...

It had been years since I had sat down at a piano and my fingers twitched, wanting to play. It used to be one of the best things I could do to relax... Of course, the last time I touched one, when I was ten, Ms Johnson broke my finger.

Looking back down the hall, I bit my lip. No one was in the room, no one was standing at the end of the hall... But I didn't want to get in trouble.

I stood there for almost five minutes until I walked into the room.

My hands glided over the body of the piano, not one imperfection anywhere on it. I sat on the bench and began to play.

" _Paint yourself a picture_  
Of what you wish you looked like  
Maybe then they just might  
Feel an ounce of your pain  
Come into focus  
Step out of the shadows  
It's a losing battle  
There's no need to be ashamed  
'Cause they don't even know you  
All they see is scars  
They don't see the angel  
Living in your heart  
Let them find the real you  
Buried deep within  
Let them know with all you've got  
That you are not your skin  
Oh  
Oh"

When I played, I couldn't help but sing either. It helped take my mind off of things. _Skin_ by _Sixx AM_ was a great song to do both with. It was a song that, kind of, resonated with me - I guess that was the right word...

" _When they start to judge you_  
Show them your true colours  
And do unto others  
As you'd have done to you  
Just rise above this  
Kill them with your kindness  
Ignorance is blindness  
They're the ones that stand to lose  
'Cause they don't even know you  
All they see is scars  
They don't see the angel  
Living in your heart  
Let them find the real you  
Buried deep within  
Let them know with all you've got  
That you are not your skin  
Oh"

The song was just so passionate, so powerful. It was hard not to understand the message. It was easy to get carried away with the song.

" _Well, they don't even know you_  
All they see is scars  
And they don't see the angels  
Living in your heart  
So, let them find the real you  
Buried deep within  
Let them know with all you've got  
That you are not  
You are not your skin  
Oh  
Oh."

As the last note rang out through the room, everything was quiet. Silence rang true for a few seconds after, my shoulders relaxing as it did.

 _"Beautifully done."_ a voice from behind me said.

Obviously, I jumped.

I startled so badly that the bench fell backwards, tripping me up on its decent to the floor. I scrambled away from the bench, taking me further away from, not only Peter but _everyone_ that had been in the house. As I stood up, I righted the bench, walking backwards still after I was sure it wouldn't fall again.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched it, I know, but it just looked so nice and I was bored and _I'm sorry,_ _please don't break my hand_!"

* * *

**Derek**

No one asked questions about what Stiles had said. It was kind of obvious, I suppose. They just stared, wide eyed, watching as Peter tried to help the boy in front of us.

"Why would I ever do such a thing?" Peter asked, frowning. "No one else plays; if I had known, I would have shown you when you first moved it."

With that, Peter walked further into the room, sitting down on the bench to his piano - yes, _his_ piano. He cracked his knuckles first, putting his fingers to the keys seconds after.

Peter played Mozart. The piece he played was the first thing he had learnt on piano, or so Mom had told me. He used to play it day in and day out... Everyone would get so sick of the song, but I never did. I loved listening to my Uncle play. He always played with such passion, a small smile always present whenever he played.

He was less of the snarky, annoying asshole he was today, going back to the man I used to know.

Stiles identified the song easily, Peter nodding as his small smile grew. He asked he kid if knew how to play anything else, Stiles returning the nod, hesitantly.

"Take a seat, my boy." Peter said, continuing to play the piece. "Let's see what you can do."

So Stiles did.

He slowly sat on the other end of the bench, lifting his hands to lay his fingers gently on the keys. Peter ended the piece he was playing, only to start another that I didn't recognise.

Obviously, Stiles did.

The boy picked up his own part easily.

They both played with such fluidity, the ease with which they both played something I had never seen before in a piano duet. I mean, even with the most practiced duets, there was always that something missing. No matter how great the players...

I couldn't tell how long the piece went on for.

I couldn't say how long I stood their staring.

As soon as they had both finished playing, Jessie and Luna ran up to Peter and Stiles, the pair jumping on them. The girls begged for them to play more, Janice and Cora even getting involved.

The only thing I could take note of, however? The way my Pack were looking at Stiles - differently, better.

* * *

At lunch, we went to Johnny's.

It had become ' _our_ ' place. We had become so regular that people knew which was ' _our_ ' table, and a lot of the staff had come to know us - maybe not by our names, but they knew us.

We sat at our usual table, everyone sliding onto the benches whilst I took the chair at the head of the table. Stiles sat to my right, Scott on his other side... He only seemed to be comfortable with everyone this way.

Of course, sitting like this and coming to this diner, we had to deal with _Olivia_.

I didn't like the girl. She seemed far too friendly with Stiles. I didn't like her scent on him, her perfume masking his own... It was disconcerting to say the least. The entire Pack seemed to react the same, not liking the New Orleans girl near him - even if the majority didn't like him as much...

Olivia was always the one serving us. And, every time, she and Stiles always hugged. They would hug and talk about things none of us were clued in on. They almost always mentioned Olivia's Mom, sometimes talking about someone called ' _Sky_ '.

If the food wasn't as amazing as it was, we would _definitely_ stop coming.

Anyway - we had sat down, no one bothering to look at the menu since we all knew what we were having. Almost immediately, Olivia was at our table. And, as usual, Stiles got up to hug her.

"Well, don't I feel all kind of special." she giggled. "You've come in almost every day."

"What can I say?" Stiles sighed, grinning. "I just can't resist you."

"Ok, you know what, what the _hell_ is going on between you two?!" Jackson demanded.

Silence.

That was what we got from the two of them - absolute silence.

Olivia looked slightly surprised, a little offended at the tone of Jackson's voice and what he could be - _was_ \- implying. Stiles? Well, he looked like a baby deer caught in the headlights, the car too close to be able to escape. He looked confused; like he wanted to run, the tone in Jackson's voice being one he hadn't heard since Scott had heard Octavian's name for the first time. I think, sometimes, the others seemed to forget what Stiles had come from...

"And what's that supposed to mean?" the girl glared, taking on a completely different persona than the one we were used to.

"Like, are you dating, or what?" Erica sneered.

I didn't expect the reaction we got from that.

I expected, maybe, embarrassment? Maybe anger?

I did not expect them both to fall into fits of laughter.

"Wait, you thought we were together?!" Stiles shrieked, struggling to contain the giggles.

"Oh, honey... Stiles has _way_ too much dick for me - not enough boob." Olivia snorted. "Besides, Sti is strictly dickly."

"We bat for completely different teams!"

"Haven't you heard us talk about my girlfriend?"

Stiles then proceeded to tell us that this ' _Sky_ ' we kept hearing about, was Olivia's girlfriend, Skylar Anna-Mae Harvelle. Someone who walked into the diner and over to us, the moment those words were out of his mouth.

Sky was twenty years old, two years older than Olivia. She was an inch or two taller than Olivia; her hair a dirty blonde and shoulder length, her eyes such a crystal clear blue that she looked blind... Funnily enough, she did actually need glasses... Her skin was so pale that she looked almost dead, but it complimented her nicely somehow. Sky was the completely opposite to Olivia - apparently - favouring dresses or clothing that was classes as ' _particularly feminine_ '.

Sky was definitely nothing how I pictured her...

I mean, Sky was nice, don't get me wrong - and it was _great_ to know that there was nothing between Olivia and Stiles - but I had no idea that Stiles would be friends with someone like Sky. I don't mean a lesbian - I just mean someone so very and obviously girly. And rather flirty...

"Sti, can you _please_ tell Livy she looks _gorgeous_!" Sky sighed, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's waist. "I mean, look how short they made it! And how tight the top is..."

"Sky, stop!" Olivia whined, blushing. "Why'd you always gotta say that?"

"Because it's true!"

To be honest, they were kind of a sweet couple...

* * *

**Stiles**

That night, the Pack were staying again.

Talia and Oliver were on a date; Jessie and Luna were at sleepovers; Grace had taken Janice, Cora and Laura to get their nails done and have a girly night out... Peter was the only one left in the house with Derek, Derek's Pack and me.

And the Betas waned to drink and do shots.

Only three of them could get drunk - Allison, Lydia and Danny - but they were all up for it... They would be; why wouldn't they? And, since they were staying at someone's home, with two responsible adults, it was allowed.

So Lydia had the idea to do a line of ten shots, seeing who could do the most. Which, surprisingly wasn't a lot, because the alcohol was burning their throats, regardless of the majority being supernaturals.

Derek and Peter didn't join in, happy to just sit back and watch the others make fools of themselves and fail, considering no one got past five... I mean, Jackson - the last one to go - could only do two! I had been silent up until that point, not being able to stop laughing!

That's when the night took an interesting turn.

Jackson, his pride hurt, tried to goad me into doing it.

"Come on, Stilinski. Think you can do better?" he glared.

"I know I could, Whittemore." I snickered.

Literally, _everyone_ doubted me.

Apart from Scott. Scott just grinned.

"Fine. You know what? Let's make this interesting." Jackson nodded. "Ten bucks says you can't do better than me. A hundred is you do all ten!"

Then everyone started better on how many I could do. Even _Peter_ joined in.

They didn't realise that this was easy money for me.

I pushed myself up from the kitchen table, moving around room, grabbing some salt and a lime that I cut into four. I grabbed the bottle, flipped it, reloading all the shots. I could practically hear their thoughts, all of them thinking I was just playing the part, trying to psych them out... If only they knew what was coming.

"Wait! What do I get if _you_ lose?" Jackson asked before I could start. "You have no money."

"I won't lose." I winked. "But, if I do, I'll clean your _entire house_ for you. Deal?"

Jackson _jumped_ at the deal, shaking my hand.

Rolling up my sleeve, I licked a line up my forearm, very aware that Derek was watching me rather intently. I shook salt onto my went skin, before quickly downing the first shot, flipping the glass over.

I downed all ten shots within seconds, quickly licking up the salt once they were gone, shoving a slice of lime into my mouth as fast as I could.

I had to blink a few times to clear my head.

"So, this is mine, yes?" I grinned, pointing at the stack of money in front of me as they all stared, wide eyed, Scott laughing his ass off.

It was the easiest $600 I had _ever_ made! Peter, Jackson, Danny and Lydia had all bet $100; Allison, Isaac, Boyd and Erica all going for $50... Scott and Derek had been the only ones not the bet.

"The first indication you guys were fucked was the fact Scotty didn't join in." I grinned, laughing. "Thank you, have a great night!"

With that, I just walked away from the kitchen counter where everything had been set up, settling back down into the chair I had originally been in at the kitchen table, all but downing the glass of water Derek gave me.

"How did... Just, how?" Danny stammered.

"Trick is to keep your throat open so you don't taste it. You're supposed to lick the salt and have lime after each one, but I just wanted to be fast." I shrugged.

It felt nice to have them all laugh with me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT, BUT I'M IN STARTED UNIVERSITY!
> 
> Please, please review XD
> 
> Thanks XD


	23. Bonding

**Chapter 22 - Part 1**

** Stiles **

It was two days after we had done the shots, after I had won my six hundred dollars, that we had another ' _Pack Bonding Day_ ', as Scott would affectionately call it. I had been wrangled into joining yet again, though nothing bad had happened.

Yet.

That morning, everyone gathered at the house after breakfast. For a time, everyone just sat around talking - about things they had been up to with their family, any plans they had in the coming weeks, about school starting up again son. Just really relaxed, day-to-day conversation.

After a few hours, Derek decided it was time to train. It was the first time I had ever seen it. Obviously, I didn't take part. Not that they would let me. Scott and Derek insisted it was because they didn't want me getting hurt, the ' _considering what's happened to you_ ' was implied. I just sat on a pile of mats, off to the side of the room in the basement, watching them all spare against each other. It was fascinating, really. I mean, I had seen kids fight at the Agency, but I hadn't seen _real_ training. The fluidity of their movements were astounding, the precision in the attacks, the speed of the defence... It was like nothing I had ever seen before. What made it all the better, was I knew they were good. They wouldn't try and hurt anyone like me.

Lunchtime meant going to Johnny's. When Olivia served us, they all got a bit... _sheepish_. The two of us couldn't help but snicker. The looks on their faces were priceless when Olivia read out our order before anyone had even said anything. They all seemed a lot more relaxed with Olivia around. Honestly, I didn't realise it was that big of a deal, them thinking I was dating her, I mean. I didn't understand why they got so weird about it anyway...

By the time we got back to Derek's place, it was coming up half past four. Since it was getting later and Derek's Pack were, more than likely, going to stay for dinner, Derek decided it might be good for everyone to just stay the night. Saying it would be a ' _good experience for everyone_ '. I couldn't believe how quick they were to agree but, I suppose, since Derek was their Alpha they had to... I didn't know. That was the only time they left - to get things for the next day, pyjamas and to tell their parents. That was the only time, that day, I was left alone with Derek.

"Want to help me set up?" he asked, leaning against the stairway railing.

Looking at the Alpha, I couldn't believe it was the same man that would join Scott and me in the diner. That Derek had been gruff, a tad rough with all his brute force... This Derek? The Derek I had gotten to know since he rescued me? He was kind, gently. He spoke softly and always made sure I was ok; always made sure I was included. It was still so strange, though I suppose it _had_ only been just over three weeks...

"Wh-What do you want me to do?" I stuttered, fiddling with a loose string on my sleeve.

"Come with me." Derek said, a small smile on his face.

He waited until I could walk next to him, stepping in time with me as we climbed the stairs. He kept little space between us - far enough that it felt comfortable, yet close enough that I could feel the back of his hand brushing mine.

He didn't say anything as we walked. The silence almost calming. I didn't feel pressured into trying to talk, like I did when the others were around. I never felt comfortable around them. If it was Derek, or Scott, or Allison, or all three, or just two of them, I was fine. But all nine of them together? I just felt too cornered. I felt like I was looking over my shoulder, every step I took. I couldn't stop being so on edge.

Derek led me to the top floor of his house, stopping once he reached the small stretch of hallway between our two rooms.

"Just grab as many blankets, duvets and pillows as you can, then we'll take them down to the living room." Derek told me, still smiling gently. "You don't have to get on them with us, if you don't feel comfortable. You can sit on the couch near us, if you want."

"Are you planning on some kind of Puppy Pile, or something?" I snorted.

"Pretty much. It helps brings a Pack closer together; let's our scents mix together so others know which Pack someone belongs to."

_Kind of like a family..._

* * *

Luna and Jessie were spending the night at friends houses. The rest of Derek's family were in the house, but told us they would be staying out of the way. In a way, it made me feel a little more comfortable that there wasn't going to be _a lot_ of people to deal with, but I was a lot more used to Derek's family then I was the majority of Derek's Pack - Scott and Allison excluded, of course.

Derek's Pack all seemed to turn up together, only, about, half an hour after they had all left. As soon as they walked into the living room, they had all practically nosedived onto the nest Derek and I had made. The Betas and Derek all lay on top of all the blankets, duvets and pillows, but I decided I'd take the couch behind them, snuggling down into my own duvet, with Wolfy hidden under the covers with me. The last thing I needed was for Jackson to see him - I'd _never_ live it down!

It was to be a movie night. Hundreds of movies laid out for everyone to choose from. I was guessing, considering how many were there, the movie night was going on into the next day, possibly even longer... Sighing, I just tried not to think about it.

The first movie to be played was _The Notebook_ , mainly because no one wanted to deal with the wrath of Lydia. This way, it was over and done with and we didn't have to suffer through it again - well, not until they decided to have another movie night, I suppose.

I didn't really pay much attention to the movie. I just sat there, staring down at Wolfy through a small gap in my duvet, running my fingers through the fake fur. I wasn't used to all the closeness, I still didn't feel _safe_. But I was trying, I was trying for Scott and Allison, I was trying for Derek. I thought trying to distract myself with Wolfy would help, though it would relax me a little so I could deal with it all. I couldn't stop feeling so antsy.

I needed to move.

I needed to _do_ something.

I was so used to cleaning, never having time or being allowed to just sit down!

I didn't know what to do with myself... When I was at Scott's house, it was easy. It was just me and my best friend, in a place I was more than familiar with. I felt at home there, I didn't have to keep looking over my shoulder there. I knew Melissa and Scott, I had known them since...well, I couldn't even _remember_ , that was how long I had known them. But, in Derek's house, with the entirety of Derek's Pack? I just felt on edge.

I didn't like the stillness. I didn't like how silent everyone was. At the Agency, whenever it was like that, it meant I was just about to be dragged off by Ms Johnson, or attacked by Octavian's goons, or pounced on by Octavian himself.

Stillness and silence meant bad things would happen.

I didn't realise that my thoughts had started to change my scent, in turn affecting the wolves. I didn't realise how they all started to shift around, anxiously. I didn't realise how the hair on the back of their necks had started to stand on end.

I didn't realise. Not until a hand landed on my knee.

I practically leapt off of the couch. I made myself as small as possible, pressing myself into the back of the couch as hard as I could. I saw Scott's hand, hovering in the air, his eyes full of worry and concern.

I just gave him a shaky smile, trying to relax as much as I could.

They were all watching me. The movie had been paused, all of them turning to look at me. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. What could I say to them? How could I make it better? I could feel myself starting to shake slightly. Not so much that it was noticeable, but enough that your could tell if you knew what you were looking for.

Derek and Scott seemed to be the only ones to notice.

"Why don't we get take out?" Derek suggested, clearing his throat.

"Oooo, can we get Chinese?" Isaac grinned.

Just like that, there attention was captivated. I sat and listened, feeling my body slowly start to unwind. The noise was good, the noise was nice. I just sat back and listened, reaching out to light grab hold of Scott's wrist. Scott didn't even look my way, just turned his hand slowly so he could grab my wrist too. He squeezed gently, knowing that the small bit of reassurance meant so much to me, just knowing he was there for me.

I watched as Derek removed himself from the pile on the floor, walking over to the house phone to get ready to order the food - Chinese, they thought it was a good idea. All everyone had to do was say what they wanted before it was ordered.

"I'll go get it!" I offered. "It's not that far and they always put the food in bags, so it's nothing I can't handle. And it saves having to wait for delivery; you can never tell how long that'll take."

They were hesitant. They _all_ were. None of them seemed to think it was a good idea to let me out of the house, even though the sun was still out.

"Oh, come _on_! I _need_ out of the house; I need to do _something_!" I moaned. "I'll take my cell, you can call if I take too long, or I'll call if I think I'm in trouble or something. Come on, _please_?"

Derek broke. I thought it would take a lot more to break him, not that I thought there would be any chance of him saying yes, but I was wrong. He sighed, agreeing that I could go, as long as I promised to call if I thought something was wrong, even if it was just someone looking at me funny. It didn't matter how small it was, I had to promise.

So I did.

Very quickly, everyone decided what they wanted and Derek ordered.

He gave me the money, telling me to be careful. I just smiled, nodding vigorously, promising I'd be back before it started to get dark.

I practically _ran_ out of the house.

* * *

I loved being out of the house. The air was clean and slightly chilly, the sky was this beautiful light orange... It was just so peaceful. I felt so _free_. I hadn't felt that in a long time whilst being outside. Usually, I was stiff and on guard the entire time, constantly looking around me and assessing everything. Worrying about who could be around the next corner, or in the next store.

I had never been able to enjoy being outside since being at the Agency.

I couldn't say what it was about that day that made me so calm. Maybe it was something in the air? Maybe it was the fact that I was trusted to do this alone? I couldn't tell. I just knew it felt _great_. I wanted to feel it more often.

It didn't take me long to get to the restaurant and pick up the food. It only took, about, twenty minutes, if that. I would admit, the bags were heavy as hell, but the weight felt good. The walk back to the house would take that long anyway, so it wasn't like the bags would be that much of an issue.

I hadn't long walked out of the restaurant when I saw them. Octavian and his group of thugs.

The five of them always seemed to be together - Octavian, Owen, Jason, Martin and Callum. At the Agency, they would always be together, unless Octavian decided to mess with me. Seeing Owen in the diner, by himself, was kind of a shock to be honest. I had fully expected Octavian to suddenly turn up...

My entire body ran cold. I gripped the handles of the bags tighter, walking faster as I kept my head down, hoping they wouldn't see me.

But of course they did. They saw me and they made their way over to me, following me. I just kept walking. Kept my head down and kept walking, hoping I could get to the house before they did anything.

Yeah, I wish.

I didn't realise how close they had gotten, not until a hand punched the middle of my back, jolting me forward. The bags dropped from my hands - nothing fell out, nothing had burst open, but even I could see the dents in some of the boxes.

I was too worried, wondering if Derek would be mad, that I didn't see the fist coming to the side of my head. The pain was nothing compared to what Ms Johnson would do to me, but the impact still made me stumble, falling to the ground.

For the first time I didn't feel scared. I felt angry. The feeling was steadily rising, almost consuming me... It was such a new feeling.

They continued to hit me. Punching and kicking whatever part of me they could reach. Who the hell did they think they were?!

"Oh, Kitten, this would have been a lot easier for you, if you had just submitted to me." Octavian snickered. "Would have been a lot more enjoyable, too."

"Enjoyable? With that tiny little thing you call a dick?" I chuckled, glancing up at the Pixy. "You're delusional."

Octavian's face grew dark, the smirk dropping from his face. He growled lowly, walking forward to grab me by my hair, yanking my head back. At that angle, I could see his sharp teeth glinting in the light, could see the slight point of his chin.

"What did you say to me?" he hissed.

"You heard me." I grinned. "Besides, who'd ever want to submit to _you_?"

His hold on my hair tightened, I could feel the points of his claws digging into my scalp. Obviously he didn't like the truth very much...

" _Everyone_ , that's who. Even you in the right situation." Octavian snarled. "I bet you'd submit to anything. Even that piece of shit Alpha. They're probably only using you as a fuck toy."

I could feel my blood rushing, boiling.

I could feel my heart rate speed up.

I could feel my nails pierce the palms of my hands as I fisted them.

"I bet your nothing by Hale's catamite." Octavian whispered.

Everything went black.

* * *

The next thing I knew, I was lying in bed.

My head was pounding, a high ringing sounding in my ears. I felt like I had been through the wringer; everything hurt.

I couldn't remember anything. The last thing I could remember was Octavian insulting Derek.

_Why can't I remember anything else?_

Slowly, I tried to sit up. It just made my head spin, the pressure feeling like it was crushing my skull. My stomach wouldn't settle. It kept flipping, churning, falling. Nothing felt right.

As I moved my legs off of the bed, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I practically flew off the bed, almost collapsing from the pressure in my head. I ran to the bathroom, only just managing to lift the seat of the toilet up before my stomach erupted.

Blood vessels on my temples popped from the strain, my throat almost clogging up. I could hardly breathe. I could barely suck in any air between as I emptied the contents of my stomach.

It hurt. It tasted foul.

I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

Within seconds, I heard the door to the bedroom and the bathroom open. I didn't look up to see who had come walking in. I didn't react as much as I usually would to the hand that was placed on my back, rubbing soothing circles into the muscles. I suppose, if I had, it would have only aggravated my stomach further.

I heard a cupboard door open and shut.

I heard the water running.

Before I knew it a cold, damp cloth was swiping gently at my neck, forehead and face. I could barely feel it on my burning skin.

"Did you guys plough me with whiskey last night, or something?" I groaned, heaving into the bowl of the toilet.

"You didn't drink any alcohol." Derek whispered, carefully. "Stiles, what's the last thing you remember?"

"What kind of question is that?"

My grip on the bowl tightened as I retched again, my knuckles turning an alarming shade of white.

"Just answer me, Stiles." Derek insisted.

"Getting the food last night." I coughed. "Octavian showed up. He was spouting some shit... Did he knock me out?"

"This is bad..."

Swallowing down the feeling in my stomach, I turned slightly to look at Derek. He looked slightly pale, the bags under his eyes far more prominent than I had ever seen them. He was frowning, mouth pulled into a tight line as he tried to focus on moving the cloth against my skin.

"What's bad? What aren't you telling me?" I whispered.

"Stiles, Octavian didn't knock you out." Derek told me.

"What do you mean?"

For a moment, Derek looked hesitant. He glanced off to the side, the debate of whether he should tell me clear in his eyes. Shakily, I moved one hand to rest on his arm.

"What day do you think it is today?" Derek sighed.

"What the-? Thursday." I frowned, heaving again.

"Stiles, today's Friday. And you haven't been knocked out."

"I don't understand..."

"Let's go downstairs and talk."


	24. Black Out

**Chapter 22 - Part 2**

**Derek**

Mom, Dad, Peter and Melissa McCall were the only ones in the living room. I had made sure that was how it was going to stay. Stiles didn't need anyone else causing trouble for him, especially since we had no idea what had happened.

Stiles, after hugging Melissa, sat on the couch, hesitantly.

That was when he noticed his injuries.

He was confused, frightened. He had no idea what had happened to him and, to be honest, even though we saw some of it, we all had no idea either. It was a mystery as to _why_.

Stiles started shaking. His entire body vibrating as he tried to keep himself calm, his eyes darting between us all as he tried to get someone, _anyone_ , to talk.

It was down to me to tell him. I was his Alpha, I was the one responsible for him. I was the one that was supposed to protect him. It was my duty to explain to him what we had seen. What we had heard.

It was something not even Laura had been prepared for, let alone me.

**_FLASHBACK - Wednesday, July 4th 2012 - When Stiles Got Back to the House_ **

_Sitting in the living room, waiting for Stiles to get back, we were all pretty relaxed. Stiles hadn't called us; it hadn't got to the_ _'_ danger time _', for us to start worrying. At that moment, everything was going fine._

_Everyone was laughing and joking, acting just how a Pack should. I was thinking that, maybe, I was finally starting to do something right. That, maybe, I was finally becoming a better Alpha..._

_Then Stiles walked in the door._

_The first thing to hit me, was the smell of blood. I knew the other wolves could smell it too, even my family could! Mom, Dad, Peter, Grace, Janice, Cora and Laura were all in the room seconds after Stiles had shut the front door._

_Stiles walked round the corner._

_His eyes were swelling._

_His jaw was badly bruised, yet he was smiling._

_His knuckles were bloodied._

_His shirt was ripped, his stomach dripping with blood from the claw wounds there._

_He looked predatory. He had this, almost, deadly gleam in his eyes that I had never seen on him before. On a rogue wolf, yes, but never on Stiles or anyone like him. It made him look like a monster; like something inhuman. All Stiles did was place the bags he was carrying onto the coffee table, chuckling as he said that the food was here._

_For moments, it was silent._

_Then everybody was yelling at once - asking if he was alright, demanding to know what had happened..._

_Everyone was scared of the look on his face._

_Stiles just sat down, starting to unpack the food and put them in piles for the right person. He wasn't answering any of us, not focused on any of us. I walked up to him, gently grabbing his hands, waiting until he was looking me in the eyes._

_"Stiles. What happened?" I asked him, lowly._

_The grin on his face dropped._

_He looked dead, his eyes holding no life in them._

_"Can I borrow your cell?" he asked, monotone. "Mine's in my pocket, I can't get it unless I stand up. By the pain in my legs, I don't think I can."_

_Sighing, I handed him my phone, hoping to God it would at least get us some answers!_

_And it did._

_Stiles dialled 911 - we thought it was for him! Then he started speaking to the operator._

_"Yeah, hi, there are three unconscious teens outside the Chinese place, next to the Starbucks in town." Stiles said, frowning as he got the reply. "I was jumped. Obviously I defended myself."_

_With that, he hung up, handing my phone back to me. He ran his hands over his head, muttering about a headache. He tried to stand up then, mumbling something about taking care of his wounds... Erica got him to stay put, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place._

_I couldn't remember a time I had seen them all so worried - even Jackson and Boyd._

_"We should get you to a hospital." I sighed. "I don't know how you even managed to walk all the way here."_

_Stiles just started freaking out._

_His eyes went wide, shaking his head rapidly. Spots of blood flew from his head and jaw, the boy chanting over and over how he didn't want to go to the hospital, just please, no hospital..._

_He didn't stop until Scott intervened, rushing to his side and saying he would call his Mom._

_It grounded Stiles, knowing a familiar face was going to be showing up. But then he started feeling around his wounds, poking and prodding himself._

_"Nothing's broken. Just a sprained wrist." he told Scott, sounding so mechanical and distant. "I don't need stitches - Octavian's claws didn't go deep, just a scratch really. The worst is probably my jaw and knuckles, to be honest."_

_The fact that he was so calm about it, that he knew what he was looking for, hurt me. Grace looked like she was about to cry, Dad and Peter looked about ready to kill a bitch. Mom... Well, Mom was calm on the outside - on the inside, she was raging like Hell Fire._

_I couldn't blame her._

_"Wait, Octavian?" Erica frowned._

_Stiles just ignored her_

_"Just so you know, I forgive you." Stiles said, turning to look at Isaac. "I understand why you turned into a dick when you first turned man - power is addictive."_

_Isaac just stared, wide eyed. His mouth kept opening and closing, not knowing what to say in reply to his peer. Honestly, none of us knew what to say to Stiles. What did Stiles mean he understood? How could he know such a thing?_

_"You should see the other guys." he smiled, turning to look at me._

_"Bro, that's what you say when you lose." Scott chuckled, startled._

_"Nah, you would've been proud."_

**(Short time skip)**

_Melissa arrived fifteen minutes after Scott called her. She didn't stop to say hello to anyone, just gave her son a quick hug before rushing towards Stiles. Her hands cupped his face as she looked him over, muttering to herself over and over._

_She fussed over him, as if her was her own child. I suppose, in a way, that's how she felt about Stiles._

_Stiles just laughed off her worrying, telling her he was fine. Melissa's eyes narrowed, flicking his nose lightly. It just made him laugh more._

_"You are not fine, young man!" she rebuffed. "Now, I'm going to patch you up and, as I do, you better tell me what happened. I want answers and I'm not leaving without them."_

_Stiles, gradually, stopped laughing. He turned embarrassed, his face turning a light pink under the bruises and blood._

_Before Melissa started to bandage him up, she got Scott to get a bowl of lukewarm water and a soft, dark face cloth. Cora helped, knowing Scott didn't know exactly where everything was kept in the house._

_Only once Melissa had everything with her, starting to clean the blood off of Stiles, did he speak._

_"When I was walking back, I saw Octavian and his little gang. I tried to walk away without them seeing me, but it didn't work. So, they started beating on me, Octavian started being a creep - nothing out of the ordinary for them." Stiles sighed. "Instead of being scared, I just got mad. Then Octavian said something bad. I was so_ pissed _! So I hit him. He didn't take too kindly to that, none of them did. So I started to fight them all."_

_His eyes were distant, unfocused, as he spoke. He was so passive. I just couldn't understand it._

_"I don't really know where it came from, all the rage and strength. I mean, I took out three Supernaturals. It would have been five, but two of them ran away after I took Owen down. It was pathetic really." Stiles explained._

_"What did they say that got you so worked up?" Allison frowned._

_"They started saying shit about you all."_

_Everyone froze. Even Melissa._

_"People can say or do whatever they want about me, I don't care. But, if they turn on people close to me, then I have to do something." Stiles admitted, yawning as Melissa finished up with him. "I'm tired."_

_The moment Melissa moved away from him, Stiles lay down on the couch, trying not to cause any more damage to his wounds. In seconds, he was asleep._

_Everyone just stared at him, not knowing how to react. He had defended us all, just like a member of a Pack would. I felt warm at the thought - Stiles truly being part of my Pack, calling me_ his _Alpha._

**(The next day)**

_Stiles was still acting strangely. He wasn't himself, just like the night before. He was healing quicker than usual, though he was, in fact, still healing. He seemed confused that everyone was helping him out - helping him stand, sometimes helping him walk, passing him things - even though he insisted he felt better. To be honest, even I was surprised with the reactions of my Pack. I suppose, what Stiles had said the night before, had really resonated with them all._

_We were all outside the front of the house, just after lunch. Whilst some, like Stiles, took to sitting on the porch, others took to training. It was a nice day, the sun hanging high and the sky a crystal blue. Not that all of us were relaxing and enjoying the day. I could tell that Mom, like me, was wondering what had happened. We couldn't get it off of our minds, what he said and how he looked just going around and around._

_I tried not to let my thoughts be too obvious. I didn't want to ruin such a rare, peaceful day for any of them. But I just couldn't let it go._

_"I love the sun." Stiles sighed. "It always feels so nice."_

_That was when we heard it._

_Instantly, every wolf tensed up, ready to pounce. One by one, we stood, staring off into the same part of the woods._

_"What's going on?" Stiles frowned._

_None of us moved._

_"Trespasser." I growled._

_"Really? How many?" he asked._

_"One. I can't tell what it is."_

_They were getting closer and closer, slightly stumbling as they made their way through the maze of trees. They weren't far from the house; they knew where we were and they were following our scents._

_"Well, maybe it's not a threat. Just wait." Stiles shrugged._

_There was something about the way he spoke, something in his tone, that made us do just that._

_Smiling a little, Stiles laid back on the porch, shutting his eyes against the glare of the sun, starting to hum_ _'_ You Are My Sunshine _'. He seemed so relaxed, I couldn't understand it. Even his heart rate stayed steady, his scent staying just as calm._

_This was when the trespasser made himself known._

_I recognised Octavian the moment I saw him - how could I forget the face of the kid that tried to force himself onto Stiles? I wanted to charge at him, to rip him limb from limb for everything he had done, for everything he had tried to do to Stiles. I could feel my wolf rising to the surface, pacing in my mind as he waited to pounce. I felt the red seep into my eyes._

_But Stiles stopped me._

_Stiles jumped up, grinning wildly, just like he had when he came back the night before. The grin was all teeth, looking far more feral than any human... The look sent chills down my spine._

_With a slightly spring in his step, Stiles walked straight to Octavian, all of us following with only a short space between us and him. The moment Stiles was close to him, Octavian spat, his eye swollen and ribs tightly bound._

_"Tut, tut, tut. You forgot your manners." Stiles tusked, his grin widening. "Such a_ bad _little boy._

_Octavian pulled out a gun._

_It came from his waistband, hidden under his shirt. And Stiles didn't even flinch._

_"Call off the dogs." Octavian growled._

_Shrugging, Stiles did just that. He told us to back up, saying he was fine. He just carried on smiling._

_"You know, I would love you kick your ass_ again _, but I don't have any badass music." Stiles laughed. "And they all know how much I_ love _my badass music, right Der?"_

_Glancing over his shoulder, Stiles looked straight at me. He smiled with the same innocence as a five year old, as if everything was made of rainbows and sprinkles. He stayed like that only for a second or two, before he turned back to face Octavian, starting to circle him slowly._

_"Octavian, Octavian, Octavian. How you've let yourself go." Stiles tusked. "I mean, your practically black and blue, all at the hands of a human."_

_As Stiles paced around him, Octavian tried to keep the gun trained on him. As Stiles kept moving, Octavian grew more and more antsy, his hands shaking as they tightened on the gun._

_"STOP MOVING!" the gun wielding teen yelled, his heart racing._

_And he did._

_Stiles froze mid-step. He placed his hands in the air, his smile nd the look in his eyes growing darker._

_"Come on Octavian, do it. Pull the trigger." Stiles chuckled, taking a step closer with each word. "But, remember, you only get one shot."_

_I couldn't understand what Stiles was doing; I couldn't understand what he was thinking. Octavian would shoot him!_

_But his smile was gone, leaving nothing by the darkness in his eyes. His chest was pressed tight to the barrel of the gun and, before I could do so much as even blink, Octavian pulled the trigger._

_There was no explosion._

_Quickly, Stiles, flipped Octavian over his shoulder, a move he had seen Scott use in training. Octavian's arm broke with a crunch, the scream causing the smile to reappear on Stiles' face. With Octavian laying face down on the ground, Stiles leapt to the side and grabbed the gun from where it had fallen._

_"Don't fuck with a kid whose dad was a Sheriff." Stiles chuckled. "If you want to kill someone, turn off the safety. Guess you've been bested again by the human bastard."_

_The moment Octavian tried to get up, Stiles gave a few harsh, swift kicks to his abdomen. One kick sent Octavian onto his back... Immediately, Stiles pounced. He was on top of Octavian, clawing at the boy on the ground, pounding his fists on his face and chest._

_He looked so predatory, so powerful, so angry..._

_"I never understood why you all called me a bastard." Stiles told the boy on the ground. "Because, a bastard implies a child being born when their parents aren't married."_

_Octavian managed to throw Stiles off of him, rolling slightly to sit up. Stiles just went with it, managing to break the fall easily. He quickly walked towards him again, breaking Octavian's leg, laughing manically when another cry was pulled from him, tears flowing down his face._

_"When, in fact, my mom and dad were happily married." Stiles continued. "If they weren't dead, they'd still be with me; would still love me. The only reason you're in that hell hole is because no one loves you."_

_Another kick to Octavian's ribs._

_Another punch._

_"And it's no wonder why. You put me through hell!" Stiles spat, bending down until he was face to face with Octavian, grinning at the flinch he got when he patted his face. "And, if you had just been nice to me, we could have been friends. But, no. I'm just the bastard. The back door bandit. The fag. The human. Well asshole, I am human and I'm fucking awesome! A human too you down; a human beat three of you to the ground; a human is better than you."_

_I almost wished Stiles had been yelling. He was speaking so calmly that it was unnerving. I wanted to stop Stiles, had wanted to since he had walked up to Octavian. But, no matter what I wanted, it was almost as if Stiles had to do it. I could almost understand. It was like when I killed that Alpha going after my family, in turn becoming one myself. I needed to do that, just like Stiles needed to do this._

_That was the only reason I held back._

_Stiles turned slightly, looking towards us all out of the corner of his eyes._

_"Have you heard about all those animal attacks, Derek?" Stiles asked, innocently. "So many kills; looks painful."_

_Octavian spat blood out of his mouth, glaring at the boy crouching in front of him, trying to act tougher than he actually was. It was pitiful. I almost felt sorry for the kid._

_"What, you goin to get your dogs to kill me, Kitten." he sneered, smirking on his last word._

_A collective growl came from all of us, watching as Stiles just smiled that same manic smile._

_"Oh, hon... They're only there to make it look like an animal attack. I'll be sure to give you the fatal blow." Stiles chuckled, darkly. "And it won't be quick, what with all the fun things I read. Did you know, you can break a jaw using an elbow? Huh, Lydia? The things you read. I know from experience. Did you know, there's a spot on you back I can his that won't allow you to move, but feel everything. God, books are just so fascinating."_

_Slowly, Stiles stood up, turning his back on the healing creature on the ground._

_"But, trust me: come back on my Pack's property again , you'll wish I released the wolves because, when I'm done, you won't ever be the same. You'll wish you were dead." Stiles growled, lowly. "Now go."_

_Octavian bolted, hobbling slightly from his still setting leg, but moving as fast as possible. We all watched him go; watched as he disappeared into the trees._

_That was when Stiles' breathing changed._

_Snapping my head towards him, I noted his glassy eyes. He was shaking, his breathing heavy, his heartbeat erratic. I was only just able to catch him as he started to fall to the ground._

**_END OF FLASHBACK - Back to: Friday, July 6th 2012_ **

Everything went silent the moment I had stopped speaking. Stiles sat there on the couch, eyes wide and shaking, looking as if he was about to burst out crying.

All I could think was that at least we could tell it was really _him_.

"We're all going to keep an eye on you, just in case it happens again." I told him. "We don't know what's going on."

"I'm going to look into it, see if there's a medical reason for this." Melissa tried to sooth.

"We're going to look to see if there's a supernatural reason." Peter added. "You are not alone in this.

* * *

**Stiles**

_Oh God, I'm a monster._

_They hate me._

_They're going to get rid of me._

_They're going to send me back!_

That was all I could think. I just stared into nothingness, those thoughts circling in my head. What else was I supposed to think? How else had I managed to beat up _Octavian_?! I just didn't make sense!

I was scared.

I didn't know what was happening to me.

I hadn't realised anyone was speaking until a hand was placed on my shoulder. I jolted fiercely, noticing quickly that Derek and I were now alone in the living room. I didn't know where the others had gone. I didn't know if they were close by. At that moment, none of that mattered to me.

Derek sat to my left, his hand still resting lightly on my shoulder. He was frowning slightly, concerned.

Why was he concerned?

"I'm not taking you back, Stiles." Derek told me, firmly. "This wasn't your fault."

"H-How do you know that?" I whispered, my throat still raw.

"You weren't yourself. Anyone could see that. It wasn't _you_ that did any of that."

He believed it. Derek believed in everything he was saying. I couldn't understand how he could be so _sure_.

"So, what? Are you saying I have multiple personalities, or something?" I scoffed.

"No. I'm not saying that." Derek smiled. "I'm just saying it wasn't _you_. You're not bad Stiles. You wouldn't do that to anyone, I know you wouldn't. You're one of the kindest people I know."

Derek's hand moved from my shoulder, wrapping his arm around me. He pulled me close to his side, holding me tightly yet gently.

"I _know_ it wasn't you." he whispered.

And, strangely, I almost believed him.

* * *

It wasn't long before I was back upstairs, lying in bed. Looking into everyone's eyes, knowing what they had seen me do and heard me say... It was all too much for me. I couldn't stand it, couldn't stand not knowing what they were thinking!

I couldn't stay there with them.

I have my cell in my hand, staring at the contact I had brought up, debating on whether or not I should call. Uncle Gabe always said I should only text, never call. He said he never knew if it would be safe for me to call.

But, surely, there could be an exception.

Before I could change my mind, yet again, I pressed to call him, lifting the phone to my ear.

_Ring, ring..._

_Ring, ring..._

_Ring, ring..._

The noise kept droning on, taunting me.

I thought he would never pick up.

Just when I thought it would go to answer phone, however:

 _"Stiles? Is that you?"_ Uncle Gabe asked through the speaker.

"Y-Yeah. It's me." I stuttered, my stomach twisting into knots.

_"Stiles, what have I told you about calling?"_

Sighing, I bit my lip, wondering if I had made the wrong decision.

"I-I know, but..." I whispered. "Something bad happened.

Silence.

There was no sound on his end of the phone.

I thought he was gone; I thought he wasn't listening anymore.

"Tell me everything." Uncle Gabe said, his voice soft and soothing.

I told him everything.

I repeated everything Derek had told me; told him how I had blacked out for just under forty eight hours and remembered nothing.

I cried.

I sobbed as I spoke, my words almost incomprehensible, yet Uncle Gabe could still understand.

He was there the entire time, listening to me; comforting me.

 _"Stiles, I'll be there as soon as I can, ok?"_ Uncle Gabe said, once I had finished speaking. _"I just need to grab the other one and I'll be there soon."_

"Ok." I whispered.

_"Hey, I love you, Kiddo. Remember that."_

"Love you too."

With that, he hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, any thoughts on Uncle Gabe? XD


	25. Voices

**Chapter 23**

** Stiles **

I didn't sleep that night.

I had sat on the bed, lamp on, as I tried to stay awake. I didn't want to fall asleep and risk losing any more time... I had pulled my Dad's hoodie on around two o'clock in the morning, the fabric drowning me completely and my Dad's cologne wafting from it.

It relaxed me a little. Not a lot, but a little...

I had done everything from reading, to listening to music, to walking around the room, to watching a DVD on the laptop. I did everything I could think of to keep me awake.

Which meant, when it reached a decent hour, I downed a _fuck-ton_ of coffee.

Everyone could tell what I was doing. Everyone _knew_. Well, I doubted Jessie and Luna knew, considering how young they were, but the others did. They knew exactly what I was doing and they were all worrying. They probably thought I would snap, that I would turn into the psycho that attacked Octavian. They were probably worried I would turn on _them_...

I felt more and more like a freak, with every passing second.

With every look they gave me.

With every faint whisper I would barely hear.

I felt like a monster.

I kept myself to myself. I rarely spoke, I hardly moved. I didn't want to do anything that could, possibly, set off whatever had happened to me. I just wanted to stay as still as possible, until my Uncle Gabe turned up to help me. That was what I needed to do; that way people would be safe.

But it was harder than it seemed.

My ADHD never let me stay still for long, especially when I hadn't had my medication in my system regularly for all that long. It felt like this buzzing in my head, growing louder and louder until it became unbearable.

I ended up sitting on the couch, my Dad's hoodie still on me and a thin blanket wrapped around my shoulders, sketching in a small pad Scott had given to me. I was hoping that drawing would, at least, distract me and take away _some_ of the discomfort. I didn't pay any mind to what I sketched on the paper. I just let the pencil glide across the page in seemingly random strokes, letting my hand do the thinking for me.

Focusing on that was my only option at that moment.

* * *

Whisperings.

That was what it started out as, just whisperings.

I ignored it, thinking nothing of it. I thought it was just someone in the house, nearby. I thought it was just something that had been going on for the majority of the day.

But then it got louder.

Voices mixed together in my head. Too many voices to be those in the house.

I heard singing.

I heard yelling.

I heard people talking and screeching.

My ears were ringing. As the volume increased, so did the ringing, my head splitting from the pain. It felt like someone was trying to rip my head in half, trying to break their way into my skull... As if something was trying to break in. Or out.

The voices would talk to me.

They told me things.

They would talk in a strange language.

It was too intense. I didn't know who was trying to talk to me, I didn't know what was going on. My heart was pounding, my breathing went shallow and fast. I could feel my chest start to tighten.

_What the hell?_

"Shut up..." I whispered. "Shut up... Shut up..."

Over and over, I just repeated the same two words. But, with every repeat, they just got louder. They wouldn't stop. It was like they _wanted_ me to go insane! It was like they _wanted_ me to freak out.

* * *

** Derek **

The change in Stiles' heartbeat was what told me something was wrong. It got faster at an alarming rate, beating harshly.

The screaming had me running.

I sprinted into the living room, only to find Stiles on the floor, curled up into a little ball and clutching his head, his fingers almost ripping into his scalp. He was screaming at the top of his voice, high pitched and frantic, pleading for something no one else could hear to shut up. Tears were running down his face, the scent of blood starting to seep into the air as he clawed at his head.

I skidded to a stop next to him, trying to pull his hands away from his head, trying to keep him still and calm.

I couldn't move him.

His grip on his head was too strong, too strong for even _me_ to undo. I couldn't explain it. The only way I would be able to move his arms was if I broke them. That wasn't even an option. So I could do nothing but try to talk to him, try to snap him out of whatever was happening to him.

He didn't seem to be able to hear me.

Stiles kept trying to fight me away, he screams getting louder as the seconds went by. I didn't know what I could do to stop him. I didn't know what I could do to help him. I was at a lost.

Then it stopped.

He just stopped, completely freezing in place.

He was panting, shaking violently, his eyes as wide as saucers and blood shot.

He looked so confused, almost as if he didn't know exactly where he was. He looked so scared...

"What's happening to me?" he sobbed, folding further into himself, wrapping his arms around his waist. "What's wrong with me?"

I had no idea what to say...

* * *

** Stiles **

Scott stayed with me in the living room, keeping me right next to him, tucked under his arm. He was, literally, acting as my shoulder to cry on. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't shut them off. I wanted to. Trust me, I wanted to. But I couldn't seem to find the switch.

It was terrifying.

It was like I was slowly losing control; losing my mind!

_Just like Mom._

I stopped breathing.

My hands curled into fists, my mind racing at a hundred miles an hour, trying to figure out if what I was thinking could be possible. I mean, it was, I knew it was, that was why I was always worried about it. But I was trying to figure out if what was going on with me matched.

There would only be one way to find out.

There would only be one way to know for sure.

But did I _really_ want to go down that road?

Well, yeah, if I wanted to know...

But could I make myself do it?

Slowly, I sat up from where I was resting against Scott's shoulder. I wiped away the tears from my eyes, I hoisted myself to my feet shakily. I needed to know. There was only one way to find out and I _needed_ to do it.

"Stiles?" Scott asked, quietly, getting to his feet.

"Your Mom's working today, right?" I whispered.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Why?"

"Scotty... I gotta see a doctor."

It took a few seconds. It took a little time but, soon, Scott's eyes filled with understanding.

"Stiles, it's not-" Scott started.

"But what if it is?" I sighed. "I need to know, Scott. I have to do it."

"But-"

"And I need my best friend with me."

* * *

** Derek **

Stiles and Scott were out of the house for hours. We got a vague idea of where they were going, we had witnessed why, but I knew there was something deeper than what was on the surface.

Neither of them turned up until the sun had set.

Everyone wanted to know what was going on. Everyone wanted to know what, if anything, they had found out. Everyone wanted to know if Stiles was ok.

His and Scott's faces were completely blank, no emotion on them at all. It was as if they were dead. I mean, they both sure looked like it, that was for sure...

No one said anything

No one asked.

We just waited.

Scott led Stiles to the sofa, sitting Stiles between him and me. The kid was paler than usual, he was still shaking... He looked as if he wasn't even _there_. His eyes were glassy and a little wide.

Then he sighed.

"M-My Mom had Frontotemporal Dementia. It's the only kind teenagers can get." Stiles whispered. "She was delusional... She thought I was trying to kill her, she couldn't even recognise me. She told me I wasn't real, that she never had kids."

Stiles shuddered, his eyes shimmering with a new bought of tears. He wrapped his arms around his torso again, holding onto his sides as tight as he could

"I, uh... I got some tests done and they, uh... They found some abnormalities. But they're not exactly sure what it is yet. Wh-What if I end up like that?" he chocked. "Wh-What if can't recognise anyone?"

Wrapping an arm around the teenager's shoulders, I pulled him as close as I could without it looking strange. I wanted to offer some sort of comfort to him, I wanted to let him know I was _there_ for him.

"Then I'll give you the bite." I told him , firmly. "You're not going to die; I won't let you."

* * *

** Stiles **

For the second night, I refused to sleep. I was more than terrified, not wanting to get to the dream stage. I thought that, maybe, staying awake could help with that... I didn't know what else to do, I didn't know what else could help.

So I just sat there, staring at nothing.

I hadn't been sitting there long when there was a knock at the bedroom door.

I picked my head up as the door opened, watching as Derek's head popped around the door, asking if it was alright if he could come in. I just shrugged. At that point, I honestly couldn't say if I wanted anyone near me or not.

Derek walked in anyway.

He closed the door behind him, slowly making his way over to the bed to sit next to me.

He didn't say anything.

He didn't try and make me move or speak.

All he did was put his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder. He was just offering silent support, something that seemed to come from him a lot since I moved into the house with him.

I practically fell against him, until I was pressed fully against his chest, tucked tightly against the Alpha. There was something about being near Derek that made me feel protected and safe. I mean, I'm not saying it felt as if nothing could get to me at all, but I felt like I was cared for and I had help.

It was a nice feeling.

It was something I didn't feel a lot with many people.

The feeling was kind of addictive.


	26. I'm Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I know it's been a while, but I've been having a lot of issues with family, University, my anxiety, etc. It's kind of knocked me off of my writing. Trust me when I say I'm trying to write for my fics as fast as I can.

**Chapter 24**

** Stiles **

The next morning - Sunday, July 8th - I woke up. Sitting up as fast as I could, I brought my hands in front of my face, staring at my fingers and counting them under my breath. Over and over, I had to make sure there were no extras. I had to make sure I hadn't slipped any further...

I was too caught up in counting them that I didn't register the movement next to me. I didn't notice until something brushed against me.

I was off of the bed faster than I could blink. I pushed myself into the corner on the other side of the room, grabbing the closest thing to me to try and defend myself. Not that there was anything that would have particularly worked... After my 'Melt Down', as I had taken to calling it, Derek had removed anything sharp or potentially dangerous from my room, not that he realised I could easily modify anything in the room. When I was younger, before Ms Johnson's rules had been fully ingrained into me, I would create makeshift weapons to protect myself... Safe to say, it hadn't taken long for that to be beaten out of me.

I couldn't keep myself from shaking, I could barely keep hold of the object in my hands. Whatever it was kept sliding in my grip, no matter how tight I had hold of it.

"Stiles..." a hushed voice called out to me. "It's alright."

My ears were ringing. My head was pounding. I could heard all these whisperings starting up again, their voices banging against my skull.

"Stiles, just calm down." the voice sounded again, calm and steady. "It's just me - Derek."

_Derek._

I lost hold of the object in my hand, hearing it land on the floor with a quiet thud.

_It's only Derek._

I looked back down at my hands, trying to count them again, but I couldn't see through the blur. I could feel my chest heaving, no matter how calm I tried to keep. I was practically caving in on myself, gathering myself into a tight ball. I just wanted it to end...

The moment something touched my shoulder, I lashed out.

I hit.

I punched.

I scratched.

I did whatever I could to try and dislodge the hand.

But then I heard the voice again. I heard Derek's voice. That was when the hitting turned to grabbing, clinging onto him as hard as I could, hoping against hope that it might help to ground me.

I just wanted everything to stop.

* * *

** Derek **

It took some time to convince Stiles to leave his room and go downstairs. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, he was shaking violently... It wasn't difficult to see that he was absolutely terrified. Even when I got him into the living room, he wrapped himself up with a blanket, refusing to move from his seat on the couch.

I couldn't decide what to do with myself. One moment I was sitting on next to him, then I was in the kitchen to give him some space, next I was standing in the doorway of the living room. How was I supposed to know what to do in such a situation, when I didn't even know what was going on. I had looked up Frontotemporal Dementia the night before, reading anything and everything I could about it. I had even asked Melissa a bit more about it, just so I knew I knew everything I could about it. Melissa knew more than anyone... She had access to Stiles' Mom's files. And Melissa had been around when she was being treated. I had learnt what had happened to Claudia Stilinski, I had tried to match what was happening to Stiles to what I had been told.

All I could do was hope there was another explanation.

Just after lunch, I was back to sitting in the kitchen. I had sat with Stiles, trying to get him to eat something and, when he wouldn't, I ate next to him. My wolf was pacing, growling and whimpering softly. He wanted to come out, he wanted control. I would have let him, if I knew exactly what he was going to do and that Stiles wouldn't be frightened.

Sighing, I dropped my head onto my folded arms, which were resting on the table. I wasn't cut out to be an Alpha, _Laura_ was supposed to be next. I never wanted to be an Alpha! I had no idea what I was doing... Yes, Mom helped me when I really needed it, otherwise she let me figure it out for myself.

"Why is this so hard?" I muttered to myself.

"I can't help but think that too, sometimes." Mom's voice said from behind me.

Turning slightly, to look over my shoulder, I found her walking towards me. She ran a hand, lightly, through my hair as she passed, sitting into the chair next to me, laying that same hand over one of my own.

"Hey, Bunny." she said, softly, smiling and she rubbed the back of my hand with her thumb. "He hasn't moved, huh?"

"Not an inch." I huffed. "Unless ritually counting his fingers counts as moving."

Dropping my head down the stare at the table, I shook my head. What else could I do?

"I don't know what to do, Mom." I whispered. "I don't know how to help him."

"I know, Bunny. But have you thought that, maybe, right now, he just needs you to be there for him?" Mom told me. "He's terrified, he probably wants someone to be there next to him. You don't need to have all the answers, Bunny."

I wondered if she realised just how untrue that was...

* * *

It took me, around, half an hour to do as Mom suggested and just sit with Stiles. Moving around didn't seem to help and, if I was honest, sitting with him made me feel a little better. My family had joined us one by one, Jessie and Luna situating themselves next to and on Stiles, the others placing themselves in their usual seats. Everyone spoke softly, making sure not to startle Stiles, but wanting to give him something else to focus on. Even when the rest of my Pack turned up, they sat closer to Stiles than I had ever seen before.

Stiles remained silent through it all. He didn't reply to anything said to him, or acknowledge it in anyway. His fingers would twitch occasionally, his mouth moving slight as he mimed the numbers one to ten over and over. It was the only movement he made.

Scott's concern was so palpable that I would have been able to slice it with my claws. He kept fiddling with Allison's hair and fingers, pressing his side into Stiles' leg and leaning his head on Stiles' knee. I could barely see his furrowed eyebrows and the fact he was gnawing on his bottom lip. Not that I blamed him. Scott had seen, first hand, how this illness had affected Stiles before there was a chance he could have it himself. What would it do to Stiles if it came back he _did_ have this form of dementia?

I doubted if _anyone_ would be able to handle it.

I barely listened to the conversation. If someone spoke to me directly, I wouldn't hear them, not until someone hit, or threw something at, me. I just couldn't stop watching Stiles, just waiting for _some_ kind of reaction from him. A twitch, a smirk, _anything_. I just wanted him to show some sort of sign that he was still alive inside his head. But nothing. He just stared straight ahead, looking as if he wasn't even there at all.

_How am I supposed to fix this?_

That was when we heard it.

There was this sudden fluttering, a shift in the air.

I could hear more heartbeats - _four_ , to be exact.

Then a voice spoke:

"Lucy, I'm home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I know it's been a while, but I've been having a lot of issues with family, University, my anxiety, etc. It's kind of knocked me off of my writing. Trust me when I say I'm trying to write for my fics as fast as I can.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review XD  
> Thanks XD


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